Redwood Saga Short Stories
by Charrlizard
Summary: I'm going to use this for one-shot stories, similar to the Prologue, that are 'canon', but out of chronological order. For the main story, click on my username.
1. Leo

**Leo**

* * *

It was time to leave.

That was the first thought he could remember having. He was cramped, warm, and surrounded by some sort of hardness. He was too big now, though. It was time to leave and find the source of that warmth. He didn't know why, but his instincts told him to go towards it. And so, the Shinx who would one day be called Leo entered the world.

It was bright, noisy, and utterly fascinating. His large gold eyes took in everything. Unlike his siblings, who had their eyes shut still, he couldn't so much as blink. He had to see all of it. He kept swiveling his head around, hiding in the relatively safe shell of his egg, until a giant tongue came out of nowhere, ruined his still-wet fur, and sent him toppling out of the fragile egg. He turned, uttering a tiny growl, only to see a much, much larger creature in front of him. She was unmistakably female, and as he growled, he saw her snort in amusement. Tiny sparks flitted over his fur, and she moved quickly, snatching him with her dark furred paws before he electrocuted himself.

* * *

He was trapped within the mass of black and deep blue fur, as the tongue returned, cleaning him all over. Finally, he escaped, and shook his fur. He felt fluffy and cold now, but the wetness was gone. He decided he didn't like being wet, and despite that, began patting his fur down. He paused as he licked his arm, noticing a bright golden color under the black. It was gorgeous. He stared for a full minute before he realized it was _His_ fur.

He examined himself then, and then looked back at his mother. She was blue, but he was definitely gold. He looked at his siblings, as several others had just been freed from their tongue bath. They were blue too, and they were all looking at him. Like him, they'd figured out that he was golden furred, and different. The two other males growled at him, but the one in the center, a female, came sniffing up to him, and then purred against him. He was instantly smitten with his new sister. He purred back, and they all blinked as a low glow of electricity surrounded him. He was warm, and like him, his siblings were cold.

* * *

Soon, they were all huddled around him as he discharged his warmth, and when the last of the litter was cleaned, he enjoyed the warmth himself as their mother curled around them. He liked being warm, much more than being wet, and his initial resentment at the tongue bath faded.

He'd been the first to hatch, but the last to leave his egg. Still, his mother had cleaned them in the order they'd hatched, and in doing so, established a hierarchy. He was the first, he was special. He had a target on him, drawing gazes from that very first day. All eyes were on his fur however, not him. It didn't bother him. At first.

* * *

His mother had produced seven eggs, over several weeks, and after keeping them all warm with her electrical current, managed to hatch all of them. It was a big litter, for their species, and more than that, she had produced him, a Shinx with golden fur. The first few days of his life were spent playing with his siblings. He was the only one besides their mother who could make electricity, and even when his siblings caught up, he was stronger than they were.

There were two in their group who had come after him, and his favorite sister, the oldest female in their litter. They constantly ganged up on him, and often their play fighting would devolve into a proper two on one battle. More than once, their mother had intervened to keep them from killing each other. He learned how to fight early on, and soon his electricity formed proper Sparks. It wasn't long after that, that his mother's trainer appeared.

* * *

She was a breeder, though he had no idea what that meant, and when she saw him, he knew he'd been singled out for…something. Like his siblings though, she looked only at his fur. His eyes were uninteresting, the same as every other member of his species, gold and red. Nobody noticed the growing resentment in them. After the female breeder appeared, they were moved to a large building full of new things to explore.

They were given real food, and stopped eating from their mother. There were other Shinx around, and other Luxray, but no Luxio. The Luxio who stayed were trained hard until they evolved, and became capable of breeding the largest litters. Only a few were chosen for that however. There was only one other Shinx in this building that was as gold as he was. He was older, clearly, and knew more attacks. He was also built larger, and thus, the humans selected him to be a 'breeder'. He still didn't know what that meant, but he was starting to get an idea. Eggs had to come from somewhere.

* * *

Several weeks passed, and during those weeks, the young Shinx chafed at his constant losses to the other golden Shinx. He was faster, older, stronger, bigger, and it drove him mad. No matter how hard he played, he could never seem to get stronger. He was missing something, he knew, some key element, some trick that would finally make him as strong as he needed to be.

He spent quite a long time on that farm that their building shared with the human building. He avoided it though. He got enough admiring glances at his fur from his own kind, though they were less impressed as he'd consistently failed to beat the older Shinx. Humans were worse, as they'd pick him up, pet him, and showering him with attention that made his skin crawl. They only liked him for his fur, and he knew it. His eyes missed nothing.

* * *

Then, just like that, he was taken away from his family, and put into a strange room on a strange floor with strange white markings on it. Across from him was a Luxray. He was tall, strong, fierce, and powerful. His mane was glorious. He was, in essence, the kind of male Leo wanted to one day become. Confidence was evident in every move he made, and electricity sparked from him with every step.

The young Shinx knew then, that he _desperately_ wanted to be like this Pokémon. Then a human appeared behind him, and the pair walked over to him. The human spoke, and while Leo had slowly grasped their strange noises, the Luxray translated. This was his father, and his father's trainer. They were going to have a battle. If he won, he would be free to leave the farm, and wander the wilderness.

If he lost, he would put into a Pokéball, whatever that was, and 'sold'. Yet another term he didn't grasp. Either way, he was told, he wouldn't be going back to his family. He tried asking his father for clarification, but the older Luxray had snorted and told him that 'he would understand someday'. His fangs had lit up with electricity then as his father used his signature move. He was a Luxray in his prime. No hatchling could challenge him.

* * *

The battle was short, and though he tried to hit his father with a Spark, it was dodged easily. He then felt himself gripped by the neck fur, tossed into the air, and when he landed on the hard ground, he knew no more. When he awoke, he was in a different place. It changed at his every thought. If he was hot, it became cooler, if he was tired, an amazingly comfortable pillow appeared for him. He tried imagining his family, his mother, his sister. Nothing happened.

He tried imagining a rival to fight against, and once more, nothing happened. He felt bored then, and a number of simple toys appeared at the thought. He entertained himself by playing with them, but soon lost interest. He wanted out of this ball-shaped world, to see outside, and as he thought it, he saw it. The view was strange, but he could see that he was moving. At a thought, the view became a square, and was much easier to watch. It wasn't uncomfortable in this place, and he knew he could grow to like it, but he'd rather be out there.

* * *

Still, he contented himself with watching, and as he did, he thought about the sounds he was missing out on, and at the thought, they came. He saw another human, as whatever he was inside of was placed in his hand. This human's other hand had something green in it, that was given over to whoever had held him before. At a thought, the view shifted, like he was turning his head, and he saw his father's trainer, and his father, walking away, the green stuff clenched in his fist. He remarked that it was odd, that fist, as humans rarely made them in his experience, and only to hit things with. It seemed to be their only attack, and was pretty weak. He wouldn't understand the significance of that fist for a long, long time.

* * *

He'd decided to sleep then, as he was put into a box, and the view became nothing but darkness. He kept the screen there though, not wanting it to go away as he slept, and as he thought it, it became reality. He rather liked that aspect of this place. It suited his feline nature, to be given whatever he required at a thought. Except companionship. He wanted food, and was given a berry. He'd asked for meat, but nothing had happened. He sighed. He'd have to hunt for meat, which he needed to be strong, or so his mother had told him. The strongest hunters ate meat.

He spent a long time in that darkness, occasionally opening an eye to watch the screen, but all remained dark. He decided to have a proper sleep, not just a nap, and eventually, he awoke to light appearing on the screen.

* * *

The human who'd given away the green stuff for him was petting the shell of his ball-shaped reality now, and the look in his eye gave the young Shinx chills. Still, at least he could see now. He was in a strange place, surrounded by more humans than he'd ever seen before. He never knew they could come in so many varieties, and he spent his time watching them, unaware of where he was being taken. Suddenly, he felt the sphere holding him open, and by instinct, he was let out. Once free of the ball, he shook his body, and let his sparks run over his fur. His electricity had seemed muted within the ball place, but now, it worked properly.

* * *

He blinked then, as he suddenly realized that he could understand the human's noises. More or less. He watched them with his large eyes, missing nothing. The man that had held his ball was saying, "Put him in the front window. We've already got a bidder, but you never know what rich brat is going to come along in a mall like this. Make sure his price tag is visible too. We don't need every trainer with a few hundred coming in and asking for him."

He left then, and the woman he had spoken to looked down at him, smiling. She seemed nice, like his mother's trainer, the breeder, and he purred as she pet him. Her hands were warm, and her fingers knew where to scratch. He liked her. She could pet him _any_ time. As she continued, he purred, hard, and sent a small current of electricity into her. Her face turned red, and she made a strange, yet appealing noise. He smirked. Humans were entertaining.

* * *

Once his human apparently needed a break from the belly rubs he looked around his new home, and started to realize it wasn't a home at all. Pokémon of all kinds, that he'd never seen before, were behind glass cases in habitats that seemed cramped to him. He liked wide spaces though. He was put into his own case, larger than the others and at the front of this building within a building. He had a great view of the humans though, so he didn't mind. He watched them even as they watched him, and he sighed to himself.

Once again, they looked at his fur. He could tell where they looked, and almost feel their gazes along his body. Tail, paws, ears…but never his eyes. Some came close, sure. They admired his cute nose, mouth, and his rather noble demeanor, but none could meet his gaze. After a few hours of human-watching, he didn't let them. If they looked anywhere but his eyes first, he avoided their gaze pointedly. Many of his initial onlookers left once the woman with nice hands had put a blank white thing at the front of his window. There were markings on it, many of them shaped like a strange circle, and they seemed to distress the humans who saw him.

* * *

After around three days in that place, he began to itch. He missed fighting, running, breathing the fresh air. While he and the other Pokémon were set free for a few hours each day, it wasn't enough. He battled the others, those who would provide a challenge at least, and soon figured out how typing worked. He was usually good against blue Pokémon, but not always, as he'd found out the hard way when he'd battled against a strange bird-like Pokémon with a ridiculous nose.

None of his sparks worked against it, and after it hit him with rocks, he'd fainted. Their caretaker healed each of their injuries, and the battles were usually all in good fun. He understood then that as strong as he was, _he_ had type weaknesses too. The brown rocky ones seemed to always beat him, so he avoided fighting them, and eventually learned to beat them once he was told that his Sparks wouldn't affect them at all. He bit them instead, and his tiny fangs became stronger, as did his jaw. Eventually, his bite could knock the rocky ones out. Several of the wolves at the store had growled, but none actually dared challenge him. Had he been more confident, he would've thrashed them all.

* * *

He learned much from the other Pokémon there, especially from a spiky yellow one called 'Jolteon'. It was after befriending Jolteon that he finally understood. You could usually tell a Pokémon's species by the noise they made. That made things a lot easier for him. Jolteon put his knowledge to much of what Shinx had experienced. Eventually, he understood breeding, what 'money' was, more or less, and that he was worth a lot of this money to the humans because his fur was gold. Jolteon was gold too though, and his piece of white stuff had far less circles on it. Jolteon had laughed so hard when he'd asked why that was, that the young Shinx never could get an answer from him. It always sent him into a fit of laughter.

* * *

He rationalized it for himself then, when he remembered his family. His mother and siblings had been blue and black, but his father, his rival, and himself were all gold colored. This made them special, stronger than normal, supposedly, and therefore more prized by the humans who, he learned, often battled with Pokémon, together. As a team. Calling out moves at the right times.

He thought it would be strange to do that, but Jolteon had told him to trust his human, if he ever battled with one. They had a knack for battling that he just didn't understand, or believe, until Jolteon somehow convinced the woman with nice hands to battle with him against the naive Shinx.

* * *

He was soundly beaten, even though he'd bested Jolteon before on his own, and he began to understand. As sharp as his eyes were, humans gave their Pokémon a second set, and could react faster. He decided he wanted a human then, on that third day, and began scanning the crowds for one that was worthy. By the fifth day in this strange 'store' as Jolteon had called it, he was convinced he'd never find a human, but Jolteon told him not to give up.

There were a _Lot_ of humans, and he'd have to see a lot of them before he found one who was good enough. Jolteon also warned that he wouldn't be given to a human who didn't have enough money for all those circle things on his 'paper'. Shinx hadn't worried about that though. He could electrocute the paper, turning it to ash, and then it wouldn't be an issue. Jolteon had laughed at that, too.

* * *

After ten days of battling and living in that cramped glass, the young Shinx was ready to give up. And then, he saw it. A flash of the deepest red he'd ever seen. It was a human, a female, and her clothes matched her fire-hair perfectly. She was also lovely. Pokémon had different standards of what was and wasn't attractive, but as she came closer, they all agreed. That female was beautiful.

That was when he noticed her looking at him, and his heart fell as, like every other human, she noticed his fur first. A chill went up his spine then, setting his fur on end. There was a male with her, probably a mate judging by the body language, and his eyes were locked on Shinx's. Not his fur. Not his nose. Not his adorable ears. This one was staring at _Him_ , and only him, ignoring even the lovely female as he started to approach.

* * *

The young Shinx wanted to look away, but couldn't. This was it, he realized. This was his human. His eyes were on fire, his smile was kind, and there was confidence in his stride, the same confidence he'd seen in his father's. He stood, the orange-gold star on his tail waving in the air.

"Good luck, kid." He heard Jolteon say from behind him, in his own language. To the humans it sounded like little more than "Jolt, Jolteon." The two humans entered the store. The male one was dressed in black and green, with a matching hat. Under the jacket, the Shinx spied a brown shirt, with a green symbol on it that seemed eerily familiar, but most of it was hidden from sight as the human and the caretaker woman bickered over 'price'. Whatever that was.

That was when Shinx remembered the paper issue, and he began to charge up his Spark, when the male's voice cut through the entire store, saying "One hundred thousand. Right now. That's my final offer." The Shinx assumed that was a lot, judging by the lady's expression, and when she nodded, he felt a surge of hope. They spent another few minutes finishing the 'purchase', and then the male trainer came over to him.

* * *

Despite himself, the Shinx stepped up to the rim of the glass, and purred as he felt his trainer's hand on his fur. If the shop lady's hands had been nice, these were _Glorious_. He found the spot behind his ear almost instantly, and his fur sparked in response. Oh yes. This was his trainer. The other female's hand joined his, not as strong or sure, but almost soothing. Combined, they were _quite_ enjoyable. After about a minute, they finally stopped.

The male spoke then, "I'm Alex." He pointed at the fire-woman, "That's Jess. I'm your trainer. From now on, I'll call you Leo. How's that sound?" Leo. The Shinx let the sound echo in his head. It felt right. Jolteon had explained that this might happen, that whatever trainer took him might give him a name besides 'Shinx'. Apparently, it was something humans did, but he'd also said that the Pokémon with such names started using them themselves, even though the only noise they could make came out as their 'species name'. He purred. He liked the name. Leo. It certainly sounded strong.

* * *

After that, he was recalled into his ball, but not for very long. From within, he saw a trainer in blue, and judging by the words he exchanged with his new trainer, they were going to battle. Leo was brought out again soon after, and his trainer knelt down to his level. "Listen, Leo. My brother just challenged me to a battle. I'm going to use you for it, at first, and to make sure you have a chance, I'm going to teach you something other than Spark, okay?" Leo nodded, and was recalled into his ball.

It was different this time though, the screen showed the attacks his trainer wanted him to learn, and he watched, fascinated. He felt his ball moving, the function and purpose of them also explained by Jolteon, but he was too focused on the screen to realize he'd never see Jolteon again, probably, or to see where he was going. Presumably, it was to battle.

By the time he was called out again, he knew how to summon Thunder, Thunderbolts, and release his electricity in something called a Thunder Wave. His ball had also shown him a chart, explaining type advantages and weaknesses. He put names to the types then, and started to understand. Water and flying types were ones he could beat easily. Ground types were the only ones he had to watch out for, but rock and ground types would be unaffected by his attacks.

* * *

It was a lot to remember, but he grasped it all fairly easily. He'd been bored out of his mind the past few days, and having something to focus on was wonderful. He also noticed that his ball was slightly different. He'd gone into a white one that his trainer had offered, and it was much, much nicer. It even gave him targets to practice his moves against. He was called out again then, and as he saw his trainer's gaze, he knew. This one could take him to heights he hadn't imagined. Certainly higher than his father, or his rival from the farm. All he had to do was trust him in this first battle, the battle that would seal their bond as partners. And trust him he did.

He never regretted that decision, and though he'd lost his family, and eventually understood that he'd been treated like property, it had been worth it. He gained a new family in Terra, then Blaze and Hydrus, then finally, a few months later, in Arthur and Shruikan. They were more than a team, they were his allies, and Alex kept them all together, making them stronger. Strong enough to reach the top. Eventually.


	2. Elite Four, Nick

**Elite Four, Nick**

* * *

While Jess was off finding her last Pokémon, a Froslass, Alex decided to visit the local Fan Club, out of pure curiosity. It was trainer instinct to investigate as many public buildings as possible, it was how you found rare items sometimes from kind old people. While there, he met the man who was responsible for making his dream into a reality. When he'd first met Nick, he had been in Derrion Town's high school, and without a Pokémon, that had been hell. When he finally got to university, his friend Nick was there as well. They had met his first year of High School, and at University had reunited for a year before Nick graduated to become a trainer at a Pokémon Gym. While Alex studied, he had become the master of his own fighting type gym, a proper Gym Leader, and had stayed in Iccirus while the ice gym was closed. That was changing now though, and he had stopped by the fan club to say goodbye, which was when Alex stumbled in.

* * *

The two good friends chatted for a while, and soon, the issue of Alex's 'fame' came up. After an interview and helping to finally catch Ghetsis, Alex thought he'd done alright so far, enough to perhaps have a few fans. That had caused Nick to laugh, and proceed to introduce him to the club members, young trainers who were still in school, but at least had a Pokémon or two. As it turned out, they had heard of Alex, or rather, his Charizard. It had been enough to win the argument, and as he smirked at Nick, the Gym Leader decided to cut his cocky attitude down with a battle. On the eastern road of Iccirus, they battled. The club members followed, of course, and Alex obliged when they asked to see his Charizard. Blaze, who was itching for a fight and always appreciated an audience, took down three of the fighting types with Flamethrowers and Wing Attacks, without being hit once. Alex had kept his training weights on, and was impressed. The last three of Nick's team were taken down by Arthur, and his Psychic attack.

* * *

Forced to admit defeat, Nick shrugged and claimed that it didn't matter, and proceeded to leave town. Alex left with Jess and Connor, and continued to Opeleucid City. Nick meanwhile headed straight for the Victory Plateau, taking the quick route, as Gym Leaders were allowed to. There, he found Marshal, the ancient fighting type master, and battled him. After losing so easily to his Hitmonchan and their Sky Uppercut, Marshal agreed to retire, and Nick took his place. It was fitting, now that his gym no longer had a home. He waited patiently, beating challenger after challenger who came to participate in the 'new challenge' the League was doing, always waiting for his chance to have a rematch with Alex. He knew Marshal hadn't battled him yet, so he continued to wait patiently.

* * *

As he waited, his team trained, and soon he was on par with the strength of the other Elite Four members, and earned the title of 'Fighting Type Master'. When Alex finally did arrive, he kept himself hidden, his door closed until he'd beaten the other three, an unusual move for one of the Unova Elite Four. But last he was, for Alex at least, just as he'd wanted. His entrance was impressive, and when his opponent finally understood who he was battling again, things got intense.


	3. Lazy Afternoon

**Lazy Afternoon**

* * *

"I didn't know you boys liked doing this…" She said, giggling, before taking her Charmander's offered tail, and hitting the bowl again. Alex Redwood and his brother, Eric, watched their attractive neighbor hit the older brother's bong once more. She winked towards both of them, and blew out the smoke in a ring that floated between them. Jessica Gladstone, their neighbor, was without a doubt, the most attractive woman their age for miles around.

Alex and his brother were separated by two years, and her own brother, Connor, was almost exactly in between them, age wise. Jessica had been born a year after Eric, but she had…developed…further than most women Alex's age, in their little town. She passed the bong to Alex, who took it eagerly. He didn't do this much, since the Pokémon in their own barn didn't like the smell. That wouldn't have stopped most 'leaf heads' (the term for people who grew and smoked hallucinogenic plants obsessively), but Alex never did anything that intentionally made Pokémon upset.

Usually, his granduncle, his uncle, and himself would go to the lab's basement to smoke together. It was there that young Alexander Redwood had learned the lessons of life that school could never teach him. This was the summer before the start of his junior year, and now that he had stopped working on the ranch full time, to his father's irritation, he had free time to spare. He'd offered to continue to help of course, but he was told not to bother.

"I don't, really," Eric replied, watching his brother as he maintained the general façade of passive aloofness that he always did, "But Alex and our uncles do it all the time in the lab basement. They keep trying to drag me down there, but it smells like sweat, beer, and this." He wrinkled his thin nose. "Not a pleasant combination."

* * *

Alex rolled his eyes, still holding in his hit, as he passed the clear bong with horizontal red streaks on the bottom of it to his brother. He let the smoke out at his brother's face, making the younger Redwood cough. The Charmander, Chari, found Eric's expression hilarious when he coughed, and suddenly, she blew a much darker cloud of smoke at him as well.

"Ah! Chari, no!" Jess shouted in vain, as her family's barn, which hadn't housed ranch Pokémon since long before they moved in, was suddenly filled with a darker, heavier smoke. Alex's eyes had been shifting between Chari and her trainer, and he'd had enough time to cover his nose and mouth before the air was fouled by Smokescreen.

"Oof." He grunted, "Has she always known Smokescreen?" He was answered with a hard shove, and in surprise, fell off the old hay bale he'd been perched on. He'd gained a bit of weight since he stopped working on the ranch, so when he hit the ground, it was louder than he expected. Eric smirked as the smoke began to filter out the open doors, but Jess glared at him.

"See what you taught her?" She said, irritation plain in her tone, "Now I'm going to get smoke in my face every time she misbehaves." Chari, for her part, looked down, guiltily. She'd been having more fun than all of them, as the inhalation from the humans drawing on her flame tickled her. Now the fun was over, it seemed, all because she'd felt a sudden urge to copy the larger male one.

* * *

Alex brushed himself off, and rolled to his feet, retaking his seat. "All Charmander trainers have to deal with that eventually." He said, letting his tone take on the air of one who had learned such things from a Pokémon Professor. Jessica's Snivy-esque eyes narrowed. He met her gaze evenly. The young Pokémon clearly felt sorry, but her trainer was still in a mood. "It's not anyone's fault. She's just growing up."

He turned to the Charmander, one hand under her chin, scratching as he tilted her head up again. He met her gaze. "It's alright, Chari. You should be proud! Smokescreen can be very useful in a battle." Despite the little fire lizard's twitching foot in response to his scratching, and his kind words, she was still sad, and turned her large eyes to her trainer. Pokémon with trainers welcomed affection from other humans, but if they upset their trainers, they'd be distraught until they felt forgiven. Their trainer's feelings were the only ones they really cared about, if they were close. Fortunately for Chari, no woman alive could see something as sad and cute as her and resist the urge to comfort.

* * *

The barn took on an awkward silence then, broken only by the sound of the younger Redwood hitting the bong with the aid of Chari's long tail. Chari was in her trainer's lap now, and she squirmed against her, laughing at the feeling, and a smile once more broke the stern expression her trainer had been wearing. It lessened when she noticed Alex staring at her, or her Pokémon, she couldn't tell, the fingers on both hands intersected. Jess had to blink, eventually. It was the longest she'd held his gaze, which was probably why she'd never noticed how intense it was. Had it always given her a chill up her spine?

She shrugged the feeling off, attributing it to the drug, as Eric finished his hit. Acting as her arms, something the little Charmander had long since grown accustomed to, she took another hit as well, if only to divert her gaze from the older Redwood. When she looked up to release however, he was still staring, and his younger brother was looking around, trying to pretend it wasn't as awkward as it seemed. She blew the smoke at Alex's face then, but he didn't blink. Finally, she broke the silence. "So how do you know so much about Charmanders?"

* * *

That got him. His eyes dropped to Chari, who didn't seem to mind this human's intense gaze. In fact, most Pokémon didn't mind him at all, if they even acknowledged his presence. They always seemed to warm to him immediately, and even wild Pokémon would stop misbehaving if he asked. Except for Wooper. He shrugged in response to her question.

"I have…an ideal team, in my head. I've decided to become a Pokémon Master. I'm good with them, so it seems the obvious thing to do. My ideal fire type is a Charizard, so naturally, I'll need a Charmander…eventually. Thus, I need to know how to handle them."

Eric rolled his eyes. "Well, I've already heard this, so if you three don't mind, I'll go see if Wrath and Squirt are ready to train." He left before either of his smoking companions could respond. Jess had watched him leave, but Alex had, of course, kept his eyes on her. Something had definitely changed in her quiet, awkward neighbor. He'd never mentioned a desire to be a Master before, everyone wanted to be one, to show their skill, but only a few could climb that hill successfully.

She stood then, passing the bong again. "We need a re-fill. Let's go outside, it's starting to smell in here."

* * *

As a rule, Jess preferred not to wake up before noon, and even then, she did absolutely nothing of import on lazy, free days like today. It was just past noon, as the Redwoods had invited her out earlier, dragging her out of bed with her mother's help. She'd been only too glad to force her lazy daughter outside. If her parents had a clue as to what they were actually doing, they certainly didn't show it.

Alex had no idea if they approved of the Leaf, but the general rule of courtesy was to note smoke indoors until you gauged the owner's stance on the herb. Being relatively newly legal for recreational use, some people, especially in rural areas, still thought of the Leaf as an evil, addictive substance, despite literally no evidence to support such an absurd viewpoint. He knew where it stemmed from though, and thus, didn't hold it against those who disliked smoking it. If they wanted to miss out on fun because of some silly cult's rule set, that was entirely their decision.

* * *

She lead Alex a short distance to the line of trees that grew between her property, and his. They owned most of the land beyond the trees as well, but it was ranch land, and hadn't been used in decades. His father was, allegedly, trying to convince hers to share it for a piece of the profits. That was, in large part, the only reason he and Eric had been allowed to go ask her to hang.

Within the trees was a small clearing with a slight depression on a small hill, just the right size for two people to sit and chill comfortably.

"This is my secret spot. I take Chari out here when I'm on my own. I don't usually have any Leaf though, can't find a buyer."

Alex grinned as he finished packing his bong again. "It grows wild, under the care of grass types…if you know where to look. There's a spot with a whole acre of the stuff out in the north woods, by the Torterra orchard." He sat with a hard thump, taking the first few hits, getting it going before passing it to her.

She set Chari down again, as her giggling was starting to rub her sensitive skin raw, under her fiery red and orange clothes. "And they just let you have it whenever you want?"

* * *

Alex smirked as he watched her take her own hit, and then looked skyward, relaxing on the ground. "More or less. We have an arrangement. My own needs barely put a dent in their stockpile, and they only use it for the smell. The Oddish and several Bulbasaur seem to enjoy it."

She responded as she passed it back, the small flame of his first hits still burning slowly. "Interesting…you'll have to show me this spot some time." She smirked, and he shook his head before releasing his hit.

"They don't care for humans. Near as I can tell, someone grew that field before, to sell, but they abused the Bellossom they used to care for it. They nearly hit me with Stun Spore when I first stumbled on them, and earning their trust took some time. I think it would fade if I brought someone else out there." She nodded, and he took another hit, keeping the burn going.

"I understand. Maybe I'll find it myself, eventually." He rolled his eyes, and she smirked. They both knew that the likelihood of her going tromping through the woods alone was low at best. She'd always run back home to fix her hair after five seconds in the woods. They passed the bong several more times until the clearing had a hazy air about it, and the effects of the leaf finally kicked in. "So, what else is on this team of yours, 'Pokémon Master'?" She said, as she finished the bowl and let him re-pack it.

* * *

He met her gaze as he ground the leaf down with a small grinder, and tamped the mush into the bowl. "It starts with a Turtwig. Are you sure you want to hear the rest? Nobody our age really enjoys hearing that kind of thing anymore."

It was true enough, as every child constantly changed their mind about their dream team when they were younger, and once they grew up, reality often kept them from getting what they wanted. Thus, asking what someone's ideal team was at their age was potentially a touchy subject. She shrugged, taking the bong once it was packed, and hit it first. She blew out the smoke before answering, only taking one instead of several.

"I don't mind. I've never really had a 'dream team', and if I did want a Pokémon, father could always just buy one. After Serpi though, I decided I wanted to catch the rest, if possible. Chari here was a fluke. An adorable one." She scratched the Charmander's chin as Alex had, and the small Pokémon's expression was indeed adorable. Still sensing his hesitation, she pushed him as he exhaled. "Go on then, speak!"

He rolled his eyes, passing the piece back to her. "Fine. Ideally, I'd find a Charmander after Turtwig, but they're rare here. I figured I'd get a Shinx, a golden furred one, though. That could require some traveling. After that is Mudkip I suppose, there's a swamp to the southwest near Unova that has them." He paused to take another hit, smirking.

* * *

Jess waited patiently, but after about the fifth time he hit his bong, she shoved him again. "So hesitant. You'd think you've never talked to a woman before." Her tone was teasing, but he averted his gaze and mumbled something before speaking again.

"After that, I'll need to find a Bagon somewhere…and my final one needs to be a psychic type…but I haven't decided on which to use." She raised a red brow at him, taking the piece again.

"Oh? What are you stuck between?" He spoke as she inhaled, trailing off as he watched her. To call her beautiful was to call the sun 'bright'. It was, of course, but it was also a burning ball of gas. It gave life to an entire planet with its light, thus, calling it bright would be accurate, and a gross understatement. She nudged him again, noticing his stare.

He blinked back to reality, fighting down the red heat in his cheeks. "Ahem. I haven't decided between Alakazam, Espeon, or Gallade. Type wise, Gallade is my best bet. With the right moves, he could take down normal, dark, psychic, and ghost types."

She passed his piece back, smirking. "Gallade, huh? I was thinking Delphox, personally. For me, that is. Connor promised he'd find me one."

He couldn't help chuckling, and she gave him a look as he did. "Oh come now," he said, smirking, "At this rate your entire team is going to have eyes like yours. Don't you already have a fire type? Or have I been using a Squirtle's tail this whole time?"

* * *

She giggled. "We're not that far gone…yet. I'm just being logical. Eventually, Chari is going to have better things to do than get her trainer high, and besides, a Charizard's flame is far too intense. A Delphox could light us up easily. And join us, for that matter." At that, Chari stepped off the small hill, and pointed at the bong in Alex's hands. "Char." Alex immediately got what she was asking for, and he gave Jess a look.

She seemed confused, though. "What? What's she saying?" She knew of his ability to almost perfectly understand them, with around 70% accuracy. It still amazed her every time he managed it though.

He gave a short laugh, handing the Pokémon the piece. "She wants to join us too, it seems. I guess she heard you." Jess looked at her Charmander, eyebrow rising even higher.

"Are you sure?" "Char!" came the response. Jess shrugged. "Alright, go ahead." As Chari fumbled with her tail, and how to hit the bowl, Alex took it for her.

"Here. I'll show you where to burn…hold it here…now inhale. Hard. Harder. That's it." Jess tried not to laugh as she watched her runt of a Charmander hit the piece. It was quite a long one however, and then she realized why.

"Fire type. She can't feel it burn. That's enough, Chari, you'll inhale the whole thing!" She smiled, pulling the piece away. The Pokémon was about to protest when her trainer clamped her small mouth shut. "Hold it in for as long as you can. Exhale slow." A sleepy look came over Chari's eyes, and she let out the massive cloud of smoke after almost a minute. "Chaaaaaaaaarmander." With a sigh, she laid back down on the hill, and fell asleep almost instantly, holding her tail flame close by instinct, keeping the grass from lighting up.

* * *

The two humans shared a look. Alex spoke first, low and soft, but suppressing a laugh. "I guess…it knocks them out. Interesting. We'll have to try it on your Delphox as well." She shook her head, then examined the bowl.

It was thoroughly charred. "Seems we're out. I think that's enough, actually. I'm good." She laid back as well after handing the piece back. "You should use a Gallade." She said, resuming their conversation.

He joined her on the hill. "Oh? Why?"

"Not because of type advantage," she said, waving her hand like type advantage was unimportant, "Because Gallade are honorable, kind to a fault, loyal…it seems like a good fit for you. Besides, catching an Abra in this region? You'd have a better chance of lighting a bong with a Squirtle's tail."

Alex chuckled softly in response. "Gallade, eh? A good fit…hmmm. Alright, Gallade it is." He looked down as he felt something being pressed into his palm. The bong was away though. He glanced at his hand, and eyed a Dawn Stone. He looked back up at his neighbor.

"I had an extra." Jess said, letting her hand linger. There was no fighting down the blush this time though. He nodded, turning his gaze skyward again. If he kept looking at her, he knew he'd say something stupid.

"Thank you…" He said after several moments, "I'll use this on my Ralts as soon as it evolves. The longer it's a Gallade, the better. Looks like I finally have my team. When they're finally ready…we'll climb to the top."

They stayed in the hazy shade of the trees until dusk, before going to their respective homes. As was her way, Jess soon all but forgot about that lazy afternoon, thanks in no small part to what they had been smoking. She didn't know it yet, but her advice that day set certain events into motion. Neither her or Alex would realize it however, for a long, long time.


	4. Taming Tyranitar

**Taming Tyranitar**

* * *

Alexander Redwood awoke to the feeling of his Turtwig, Terra, jumping on his stomach. He tensed his newly acquired abdominal muscles as the heavy little earth turtle kept jumping on him. Alex couldn't understand why, but Terra seemed to enjoy, for no apparent reason, sitting on him at random times. When he slept, when he did homework, when he took a rare day off to rest and recuperate. Today was one such day.

It was the time of the Solstice, a time when the entire planet celebrated the fact that the days would once more become longer. There had been a blizzard the Friday night before, halting all traffic from the University. Many people were now essentially trapped in their dorms for this holiday, and few liked it. Alex didn't mind though. The end of Festivus with his family didn't really appeal to him, so he'd taken a few days off from training, trapped as he was by the snow, and after Terra had demonstrated his ability to handle ice in its purest form, from nature herself, he decided that they could let this one slip by for once.

It just meant harder training later, but that would be easy enough to endure. The days of them struggling were long passed, and spring was approaching. With it, came the encroaching heat of summer, the first summer that he would be free of school, free to start his journey finally, and show the world what he was made of. He itched for the chance to prove himself, but for the moment, he could wait.

* * *

That day was spent much the same as the rest of their off days had been. Inside, enjoying the warmth of the dormitory in companionable silence. Winter had been long, and the sun had been scarce, so like most grass trainers, Alex had a choice. Keep his Pokémon in his ball, where the custom interior would keep his health at the perfect level, or buy a heat lamp and let him bask in its light for half a day. He'd gone with the lamp of course, but it had been too large to set up in his room, and the residential advisors were having none of that.

He wasn't the only one with a grass type however, and after agreeing to pay for the excess electricity, they'd allowed it to be set up in the workout room. On days like this, almost every grass type in the building gathered under the lamp to do absolutely nothing, but chill. While Terra was occupied with his heat bath, Alex occupied himself with what he usually did in his free time, which as a senior student, he had a ton of. He'd acquired the habit of playing video games on his laptop over the long years he'd been studying, and while his father constantly insinuated he did nothing but play them, they were little more than something to kill time with. He had a Pokémon now, and that was a full-time responsibility.

* * *

The last day of Festivus fell on a Monday, and the storm that had kept them indoors had been going since the Friday past, giving Terra and himself an abnormal amount of time to relax. After so much intense training, they were both starting to get twitchy. That was when the alarms sounded. Even though classes had been canceled, the university had still had to clear the roads and walkways for the upcoming day of foot and car traffic, and thus by now, the roads were relatively clear, the last storm of winter was gone, and the first thaw of spring had come later in the day, melting the snow slightly.

What the snow melt had brought however, was an unexpected menace. In the past, the most the university had had to deal with was flooding, a consistent problem, as it had been constructed near a river, with a town popping up around it. Even with the aid of Pokémon, there wasn't much one could do against a flood of water. This was an entirely different menace however.

Alex had been sharing a bowl of leaf with a few of the other grass trainers who'd only made an effort to know him because of how strong Terra looked. It was hard to tell for most people, but anyone who raised grass types couldn't call themselves much of a Trainer if they couldn't recognize a healthy one. Especially if they were in university. As soon as the alarm went off however the group had, much to Alex's amusement, shifted into a state of paranoia, hiding theirs bongs, lighters, and dousing the room with Sweet Scent provided by a Gloom.

* * *

Alex had stood then, and announced he was leaving, as the alarm was still going. Usually, it wasn't sounded for floods, and testing the sirens never lasted this long. As he walked back towards his room, he stopped cold in the middle of the hallway, drawing a few looks. He looked out the window to his left, in the direction of the main campus, and then felt a low rumble from the earth itself.

Being a Turtwig trainer, he could recognize an Earthquake with ease, as Terra often used it. It was his ace in the hole against fire types. Every quake was unique however, and whatever made that one was large. He turned on his heel, and ran down to the work out room, to find Terra was already in the hallway outside it, waiting. "Twig!" he cried, upon seeing his master, but instead of jumping on him, he desperately pointed his body towards the source of the quake. "TurtwigTurtwigTurtwig!"

Alex's eyes widened, "You mean…it's his? You're sure?" He got an affirmative sounding 'Turtwig', and then without another word, the two dashed for the back entrance, up Hell Hill, the only footpath into campus that went up an incredibly tough slope from their dorm, and into the main area. In the winter months, climbing the icy path was, quite literally, hell.

* * *

The sight that greeted them was one of chaos. The local police were doing what they could to keep gawkers at bay, but only from the most obvious directions. A quick diversion into the partially wooded area of the main campus let he and Terra slip by easily, and stay relatively hidden. The area just north of the main campus had definitely been shattered by an Earthquake, and not a natural one. In the center of the destruction, one of the Arcanine on the police force was trading Flamethrowers for Dark Pulses with a massive Tyranitar.

Alex swore, and Terra was next to him as they darted towards them. While the people of the university were generally kind, his country's attitude towards rampaging Pokémon was draconic, and not in a good way. Laws that had been set down centuries ago were still upheld, despite the fact that they'd become outdated in both morality and practicality, and yet any attempt to update them was met with stubborn stupidity, and cries of 'treason'. It wasn't that they were bad laws, they had worked well for a society that hadn't had Pokéballs, but now, they were just plain cruel.

* * *

The common practice for rampaging Pokémon now, especially one this strong, was to beat it into fainting, subdue it with ropes or other binding devices, and then ship it off to a lab to be studied. Alex knew the labs at least would treat them well and rehabilitate them, but it was entirely unnecessary, and removing Pokémon like Tyranitar from their ecosystems had often caused a whole slew of other disasters soon after.

And even though the Professors usually wished to return these Pokémon to their homes, they were forbidden to do so. Many eventually bonded then, but most commonly, Professors didn't have time to bond with a Pokémon that had issues of abuse or anger, and they were kept stuffed in stasis until someone came along to claim them. Nobody sane wanted a Pokémon who had a tendency to rampage however, so the number of Pokémon kept in forced stasis continued to increase.

It was a growing problem that was debated over every time one of them was caught. One side said to simply put them down in their balls. Others, appalled by that, fought with every legal trick they could to keep them alive. Alex refused to let this happen again. Not in front of him, not when he could stop it.

* * *

More than that however, was the fact that Alex and Terra knew this Tyranitar. They had trained with him in the large forested mountain to the north of the university, and through him, learned how to make both Terra's own Earthquake and Energy Ball much more powerful than any TM could instruct them to be. Therefore, the least they could do was keep him where he belonged. By the time they reached the site of the quake, they saw the Arcanine was down, along with the police chief's entire team. There was a reason this Tyranitar was king over such a large mountain. It had been one of the reasons Alex had risked asking it to help him train Terra.

"Energy Ball!" He gave the command, and while Terra obeyed, it was a smaller ball, barely enough to do any damage. It slammed into the Tyranitar's cheek, barely leaving a mark. It was however, enough to draw his attention away from blasting away the chief with another Dark Pulse. The chief noticed as well. He was an older gentleman, dark skinned, and with his hat missing, his balding head was visible. He was also a bit overweight, a life of policing a relatively calm university had left him unprepared to physically handle a force of nature made manifest.

"Get out of here, kid!" He shouted, "He'll blow you away!"

Alex ignored him. This was his mentor, so to speak, and thus was his responsibility to keep in line. One look at the great green beast, and Alex knew they had a problem. His eyes were narrow, like his focus, and there was no way he'd listen to him at the moment. Only a few species of Pokémon could lose control like this, which was what made raising them a challenge. Thankfully, he'd studied well on how to handle such rampages, and he had the perfect tool to stop this one.

* * *

A Dark Pulse formed in its maw, swirling around in a ball that grew ever larger. If there was any recognition, it was hidden behind the fury of being denied the kill. "He's rampaging! Terra, Energy Ball!"

This time the attack had his full power behind it, and as the two attacks met in the air, he watched with genuine curiosity. He'd first seen this Tyranitar's Dark Pulse used on an Ursaring that had been killing for pleasure, not food, and thus had earned a harsh punishment from Tyranitar, who had guarded the Pokémon that had fallen like they were his own.

It had blown that Ursaring away with one hit, far more effectively than Terra could have at the time, and that had been the start of his plan to train with Tyranitar. It had been as rough and terrifying as the Pokémon itself, but the results it seemed, paid off. The two balls of black purple and green spun against each other, and whizzed off in different directions, slamming into the earthy sides of the crater.

"Razor Leaf!" Their power was even, then. That was good enough for Alex. Terra wasn't even in his final stage yet, and as a true Torterra, he'd be much stronger. A small flurry of leaves shot into the green hide of the rampaging Pokémon, and it roared in pain, though it seemed more irritated than truly damaged. That was the great thing about Razor Leaf though. Despite being a ranged attack, it did physical damage, and though Terra's special attacks had become almost as good, his attack power was rivaled only by his natural defense. Speed was, of course, his Heracles heel.

* * *

Another Dark Pulse formed, and Alex stared. It was big, bigger than anything he'd shown Alex and Terra during their training. There was no question, that thing was going to blow a crater in the campus. The shock-waves alone would level buildings for sure. Whatever had made Tyranitar so furious was potent indeed. There was no control, no evidence of the kind, powerful teacher they'd known. Only rage.

"Energy Ball. Make it as big as you can, bud." Terra looked at him, fear written across his young face. "Do it! There's more than you and I at stake now. Attack!"

The little Turtwig nodded, even as the ball of dark energy grew well beyond reasonable size. There was no way Tyranitar would have any power left for another after this…though he wouldn't need another, if it landed anywhere near the campus. The police chief had run, or rather, Alex assumed he had. He was no longer where he'd been laying, but he couldn't concern himself with others right now. His entire focus, and Terra's had to be on stopping this bomb of dark type energy.

* * *

Terra however, was doing all the work. He'd had to learn how to use Energy Ball from scratch, condensing the power in ever-increasing layers on top of each other and woven together. Making one the size of Tyranitar's was impossible, not before he'd launch it, but Terra knew a trick. His father had once shown him that the earth itself could give him grass type energy if he needed it, but it was the end of winter. There was little energy left to draw upon.

That meant he had to draw from the only other source available: his fellow grass types. They gave willingly, at that moment, each of them sensing his need and springing from their balls all across the campus. He drew as much as he dared from them, and then drew from himself. He was too small for this much power, he could feel his entire form shaking from the strain of holding it together. He needed to be stronger, a Grotle at least, but he didn't have the luxury of evolving.

He would have, and he definitely could have, given his strength. Instead, he took what energy he would've used for that evolution, and poured it into this attack. It was risky, he knew, and he'd likely have to spend quite a long time recovering it, but he was a grass type. The sun, the earth, they would help him recover what he lost now. Had he been another type, he likely would've been crippled for life by such a loss, but even the most damaged plants could recover, with enough time. He wouldn't really need to worry about it until he became a Torterra. A form that large would need more energy, the energy he was giving up now, but would also be able to take in more than he ever could as a Turtwig. He could recover.

* * *

The resulting Energy Ball grew to about half the size of Tyranitar's before the large Pokémon noticed, and then launched the attack. The air rippled in the crater made by his Earthquake as Terra launched his own attack, and to his surprise, pushed the Dark Pulse back. Then he knew why. Tyranitar had shown him that one needed absolute focus to weave the shells of energy together in a sphere dense enough to be stronger than a normal Energy Ball. The Technical Machine had shown him this, but had failed to instruct him further, thus his energy balls had been good enough to take down water types, but more than a few ground types, like Golem and this very Tyranitar, had smashed right through it when he'd first started to train in the wilderness to the north.

In his berserk state, Tyranitar had drawn sloppily on his power. There were many layers to this pulse, but Terra's Energy Ball was breaking through each of them, and forcing it in the opposite direction. Finally, after about five seconds of collision, the rotation of Terra's attack launched the poorly made Dark Pulse in the opposite direction. Tyranitar had sent it in a downwards, diagonal line towards Terra, thus when it was repelled, it went upwards, diagonally, in the opposite direction. Terra's attack continued to repel the Dark Pulse until it finally faded away, but the momentum had already changed. Eventually, the attack detonated in the clouds, blowing a mile-wide circle in the cloud cover. Even though the counter-attack from Terra had weakened it, it had still possessed enough power to do serious damage. The shock wave of wind followed soon after, and the three struggled against it, but managed to hold their footing.

* * *

Back in the crater, the two Pokémon stared each other down. They were both out of energy after those attacks, and Alex moved quickly to his Pokémon. "Here." He whispered, handing the Turtwig an Elixir.

He didn't like using items mid battle, but this was still a dangerous situation. Tyranitar had other moves. Seeing what Alex was doing, the still furious Pokémon raised a massive foot, no doubt to cause another Earthquake, but by then, Terra was ready. He didn't even wait for the command, knowing what attack his trainer would call.

Another Energy Ball, though much smaller, slammed into the Tyranitar, knocking his balance off. He crashed to the ground, and the area shook again, but remained intact. As he started to rise again, still furious, a Razor Leaf ended the battle. Then, out came the Ultra Ball, as Alex heard people rushing into the crater. Tyranitar was captured easily, his remaining resilience utterly spent. He picked up the ball, and turned to see several teachers, including one he currently had a class with, and the police chief. "Hand it over, boy." The overweight chief said, panting and red faced.

* * *

When the local police were overwhelmed by such situations, that was when trainers stepped in. The trainers at the University were quite strong, and the strongest of them were the teachers. Like everyone else however, they had been indoors and south of the main campus, in their homes, when Tyranitar appeared.

Alex shook his head. "He's my Pokémon now. Legally, I own him. You can't touch him."

The chief blinked, and then his expression grew furious. "Listen you-" he started, but Alex's teacher cut him off. "He's right, Jeff. That Tyranitar is his now, and taking it by force would make you no better than Team Plasma." That gave the chief pause, and sighing, he nodded.

After that, Alex was taken down to the police HQ for several questions, and after they got his statement, he was free to go. News of the attack spread like wildfire, but, seeing as how Festivus Eve was that very night, most of the students had left long before they could find the identity of the trainer who'd taken care of a rampaging Tyranitar. By the time they'd returned to campus, they'd all but forgotten the attack, and in typical fashion, the University downplayed the whole incident, fixed, to an extent, the crater left by the Earthquake, and refused to comment on who had stopped it. After a brief phone discussion with Alex, who agreed, the police chief was given the credit.

A few weeks later, he announced he was retiring, saying that 'the whole incident made it clear that he and his Pokémon were getting to old for this shit.'

* * *

Alex had originally planned to stay at school for the holiday, but Tyranitar's capture made his belt feel uneven. He went home, surprising his family, and enjoyed their dinner. He stayed quiet though, not unusual for him, the entire night spent contemplating what he should do with Tyranitar. He'd be an absurdly powerful ally, if he could control him, and with an ace like that, he could beat the Victory Plateau.

He knew that…but it felt wrong. He'd chosen his team long ago, and while he liked and respected Tyranitar, he knew he wanted every one of his Pokémon to be trained from first evolution to last. He knew he'd never fully trust that Tyranitar wouldn't go berserk again, and also knew that he could control that fury if he raised one from a Larvitar.

Thus, Festivus morning, after gifts were exchanged, he headed out to the north of Derrion town in his car, with Terra snoozing by his side, as he always did on long car rides. The snow was still melting, which was the only reason he was able to make it to the camping site to the mountains far north of his home. It was the same range shared by the University, but this was the eastern side. He called Tyranitar out, sighing. The logical side of him was irritated, knowing that he was giving up so much strength was disheartening, but the trainer inside of him knew this was the right thing to do.

* * *

Tyranitar met his gaze, and then looked down, ashamed, only to notice he wasn't in a Pokémon center, or a PC pocket universe. This was a mountain, and a mountain he was familiar with at that, as his territory had ranged over the entire chain. He had rivals of course, and he couldn't patrol all of it all the time, but what rivals he did have knew he preferred the western mountains. Now, he knew, he would stay to the east. He looked at the human whose Turtwig he'd helped train as he began to speak.

"I don't know what drove you to become so angry…I know I'll probably never find out. I can understand you, to an extent, but this is…too much for the language barrier between us." Tyranitar nodded. The humans who had driven him to this state of fury had been eradicated, but this human didn't need to know about that. This was, unlike those who had ruined his mountain's landscape, a good one. He could tell, by instinct, that this human was kind, rather than greedy.

He sensed that this one would rather remove a limb than hurt a Pokémon, and it was that sincere resolve that resonated with so many of them in the wild. It was why he'd agreed to train his Turtwig. He had, within the Pokéball, been glad that it was this one that had caught him. If he had to have a trainer, he could think of no other worthy human. He said as much, with a deep "Tyranitar?"

* * *

Alex shook his head. That much, at least, he could grasp. He wasn't going to keep him? No.

"No, I'm not," Alex said, sighing, but knowing it was the right move. "I'm going to release you. Right here. But I need your word that you'll stay as far from humans as you can." The Tyranitar nodded, one powerful fist slamming against the chitinous green armor that covered his entire body in an eerily disturbing replication of a human salute.

"Raaanitaaaar." Alex nodded again, then smirked. He walked over to the massive Pokémon, who was taller than him by a few inches at 6,9, and pat his head.

"I've learned all that I can from you, old one. And, I beat you in battle. Thank you for teaching us. We'll use what you learned to reach the top." The large Pokémon gave a happy rumble, then blinked as the hand left his head. "I'll be back one day, to check on you. On that day, I'll want a Larvitar, sired by you, to train. That's my payment for keeping you out of a lab. I'll train him into a rival even you can't beat."

The Tyranitar nodded. Most Larvitar were left on their own anyways, but giving them to trainers ensured they'd become powerful. By now, most Pokémon knew that if they wanted to be the strongest battlers, they needed a human, and while plenty believed otherwise, they eventually understood once they ran into a truly powerful trainer. Alex gave a final wave, and then left with Turtwig, adjusting his hat. Their training was almost over. A few more months to help Terra master his final move, and they'd be ready for the final exam.


	5. Ties That Bind

**Ties that Bind**

* * *

The realization dawned on Alex like a thunderbolt. He'd just beaten his brother, Eric, and he and Jess had stopped for a quick leaf session in the back of his old, inherited van on the way back to their home town of Derrion to the north. Leo, his new Luxio, was purring against his companion's lap as they passed his clear bong with a red striped bottom around. Alex admired him again.

The combination of black and gold was something that, as someone who lived in the north east of Unova, he could appreciate. He'd remarked then, that Leo reminded him of something from the Old Days, like He-Man and Donnerkatze, or a franchise from long dead video game company. That's when he realized it. He was the boy in green who bonded with nature, and she was the rich princess in the nearby castle. He'd played this very scenario as a child, but only now did he realize he was living it.

* * *

He said it again, as she was laid back in the van now, motionless.

She burst out laughing, and Leo opened one eye at the sound, then went back to ignoring their existence.

Finally, she caught her breath, and shook her head. "N-no. No, Alex Redwood. You are not." She continued giggling, and then muttered something about a hero complex.

He frowned, and denied her, the kneejerk and oh-so-human reaction to being told you were wrong. "I am! Green clothes…nature boy... my best friend has a Deku Tree on his back. Instead of soaring the seas on a red dragon, I soar the skies. I have a belt full of special items, in a sense, that can clear whatever is blocking my path."

She nodded, accepting the similarities to the character he'd mentioned, but then continued with a smirk as she resumed petting Leo. "Your body type is all wrong though. And your hair. And you don't have a sword. Or a horse. You can't travel time, either, right?"

He waved her comments off. "Arthur is my sword. I've already caught a Ponyta, and he's not _always_ portrayed as blonde."

She rolled her eyes, watching as he hit the bong again. There was maybe one more hit, but instead of just finishing it, he passed the still smoldering bowl to her. She finished, and he began the process of packing everything away into his backpack. They'd done this enough times for her to have figured out his system of placing everything in plastic bags that hid the stink of the Leaf. It was a miracle that all that glass hadn't broken.

* * *

"Tell you what," she said, still smirking, "If you ever start jumping around time lines, I'll admit that you're right, Mr. Hero."

They shook on it, grinning. "I'll come back to this era, if I ever do learn to time travel, and tell you myself. In the meantime, I need new clothes. Maybe black and gold…like Leo."

"If you come back in gold and black, I'll be your Princess." Her tone was entirely sarcastic, but he gave her a look.

"Alright then…I guess I'll save that trip to the past."

Jess forgot that conversation, like she forgot so many things when it came to him, back then at least. When he did finally make that trip however, things fell into place again, and his master plan remained intact.

It took a minute, but she did remember.

Eventually.

* * *

Several Days Later...

* * *

It was the morning after, a thing many dreaded. But in this case, it didn't seem to fill with dread. Alex Redwood, at the start of his journey, had already demonstrated to his ideal woman that his tongue was rather skilled. What she would come to find out is that he'd been learning her weak spots, for future use. An all but noble woman like her was old money, and thus, untouched, until now. She didn't seem to care what her family would think of her running off for the summer with her neighbor.

The Redwoods were only 'rich' because they owned so much land, and without anyone respectable in the public eye, their Professor's notoriety continued to hurt their sales as the next generation studied. Eric would become the next Professor Redwood, but his brother had taken a different route, supposedly. Word was spreading, even as he awoke to the warmth of a woman atop him, about his victory over his brother. In small towns, sibling rivalry was pretty much the only interesting thing to gossip about.

Most of his fellow town members knew all about his situation, though. Some had pitied him, at first, but as he'd grown closer to his disgraced granduncle, the pity faded to mild disdain. Many still perceived him as a man who enjoyed children. Alex had always made a point to loudly and openly mock such people for buying into rumors fabricated by a cult. The result was anger, naturally. That had been a long time ago, however. Having done nothing else gossip-worthy, he'd essentially fallen off the map for many of his fellow townsfolk.

* * *

Alex yawned, and started to rise, only to find his fiery companion pushing him down again. He looked up at her, smirking. He was twice her size, and could easily toss her, but he let her think she was strong enough to pin him. Dainty rich girls simply didn't have the strength to pin someone his size. "Oh. Look who's up." He sat up slightly, and pressed his forehead to hers, causing a serious blush. "Did you enjoy last night?" She managed a nod, but otherwise didn't move. He continued rising, pushing against her with a smirk. "We have a battle today. We should get prepared."

She arched a red brow. "You don't want me to handle that… morning Redwood?"

He snorted, and broke into a chuckle. "Is that what we're calling it now? In the future, maybe, but not right now. I need my wits for this. Dragon trainers are tough."

She sighed. He was in Pokémon mode again, and the romantic side that had convinced her to spread was gone, it seemed. It might have just been the Leaf, but he'd been rather charming the night before. That was fine. She could wait. He'd definitely smoke again, and she'd be there to enjoy the side-effects.

* * *

Later…

* * *

He'd been gone for a while now. With all that had happened upon arriving in Humilau, they'd been too busy to discuss what had happened in the woods, and now, it had been three days since she'd seen her traveling companion, and she knew something had gone wrong. Finally, she decided to get help. She couldn't just let him disappear into the woods, after all. Not after a tonguing like that. He at least had to answer for that.

She didn't mess around when it came to her body, and she only went along because he'd told her that he too wanted a serious relationship, like an adult. She had, of course, over the past seventy hours wondered if he'd just taken off without her again, but she knew better than to judge him. The man she'd gone after had been unfailingly generous, he wouldn't just leave. It wasn't in his character. She'd been duped before, though.

* * *

Her friends, of course, said she was delusional, and that he'd used her for the experience before finding a girl without her baggage. Impressing her family was something any suitor would have to do eventually. The rich bloodline types were all over the continent Unova was on, in the east and the west. They had originated on the supercontinent across the Atlantican Ocean, however, and the region that produced Caucasians remained obsessed with bloodline purity. Particularly the further east you headed. Beyond the Mediterra Mountains however, most people didn't much care about bloodlines, except perhaps when they contained incest or genetic deformities.

* * *

Alex knew her father considered their family a few branches from royalty of some small, outdated kingdom nestled in the many mountains that had formed in that region when Regigigas had pushed the African, Europian, and Asian continents together. They were the kind of people who only accepted suitors that went to the Liberty Garden in Unova, or proved themselves in cities like Lumiose in Kalos. He'd made it clear that he understood what courting her would entail, and they'd gone ahead anyways. More or less. She knew the more time that went on, the more she would wonder if he really had just abandoned her, but her instincts told her otherwise.

* * *

The media came, as did his family, after she sent word that he'd gone missing. The search began, but no trace of him was found by the amateur volunteers, most of whom just used the opportunity to enjoy a bowl of Leaf in the woods. Pokémon trainers went missing all the time, usually in caves of some sort, and sometimes it would take them days to re-emerge.

The heat wasn't really on, and since the legality of the hallucinogenic Leaf plant was being debated once again by the Arceans of Lacunosa Town, people enjoyed it as often as they could, but there was never enough, it seemed. Alex, in true Leafhead fashion, had an entire glass jar of the herb, crushed and ready for packing. But he'd left that behind.

* * *

Indeed, that was often what allayed her fears the most. He'd left his bag, his solar-powered computer, his Pokéballs, there was every sign that he'd intended to return from his scouting at the Dragon Mountain, but he hadn't. He hadn't even taken Terra, Hydrus, or Leo with him, but given the state Terra was in, only Leo was present enough to be worried. Hydrus was young, and oblivious, but he too would eventually notice his trainer didn't call him out to battle anymore. Thus, Hydrus and Leo followed Jess wherever they could, and she eventually took to carrying them around after people began challenging her to battle.

* * *

This is how she started training. Marlon, being a Gym Leader, saw her worry and suggested she workout until Alex returned. He said that a trainer that strong, who worked that hard to achieve that kind of strength after only a straight year training in the icy north, wouldn't go for a dainty woman by his side. As she was now, she'd just slow him down. That, more than anything, got her moving, as Marlon seemed quite wise. Serpi had evolved, but now she became strong, as did the rest of her team, Hydrus and Leo included. Since Humilau was a popular spot in the hot summer, trainers passed through all the time.

* * *

Days passed, weeks became months, and there was no word. She became strong, however, and as her body hardened, so did the knowledge that Alex was still going to come back. She could never accurately explain how she knew, she simply did. If anything, he'd never abandon his Torterra for a Charizard. Eventually, her brother arrived, returning from Kalos, and training in Gaulia, just south of Kalos.

He gave her a Fennekin, as promised, and she forgave him for not writing or calling her once on his three-year journey. She named her newest friend Delphi, as she came from southern Kalos. The fox Pokémon had become rare after it gained popularity as a starter in a region like Kalos. She could have just had a trainer-bred Fennekin, but she'd insisted on a child of the wild.

* * *

Connor, for his part, had spent the better part of his journey _finding_ that Fennekin, and only succeeded in catching it after finally beating it in battle. Gren had had a hard time against it, but eventually managed to overpower the smaller Pokémon with type advantage. A Braixen or a Delphox from the wilds of the Europian continent was notoriously hard to catch. He'd been lucky to find a Fennekin on its own. When he'd heard about Alex going missing by Draconis Mons after catching his sister her Pokémon, he'd headed home. He hadn't expected to find that his little sister had left with him though. He'd send Gren out for a look soon. They could find his old rival.

* * *

Later that week…

* * *

Connor had told her that their father was prohibiting her from venturing onto Draconis Mons herself to look for her little friend. Unable to claim he was more than that, she'd gone off to vent her frustration, in training Hydrus against water types, and teaching him how to swim like an Empoleon. Delphi had received some training as well. After hearing how easily Gren had taken her down, Jess wanted her to know how to handle water attacks. When fully evolved, her psychic powers would keep most of them from being an issue, but as a Fennekin, she had to learn how to dodge, duck, dip, and dive against multiple Water Guns, and then later, Hydro Pumps.

* * *

It was when she was on her way inside after this productive day that she noticed something different. She'd just walked in, but had noticed the handle to her bathroom turning, thus she was already staring when Alex Redwood, essentially nude, strolled into the main room. There would be multiple emotions to sort through later as she met his gaze, and noticed the beard. The main one that held her focus now was lust. Training, while relaxing, didn't quite scratch her itch, but she knew something that might suffice. And now it was right in front of her.

* * *

That first time led to many other times over the next few hours, but when word finally got out that he'd supposedly returned, the media went to work. There was a sizable crowd by the time they noticed it, snapping pictures of the two of them, and though those photos would likely suggest they were indeed a couple, he made no effort to hide from the cameras. If her father wanted to make something of it, he'd gladly have that discussion. After facing down Lizardon, how hard could talking to an elderly rich man be?

* * *

Several days later…

* * *

It was nice to be away from the influence of their parents again, and her brother. They'd had to be stealthy about their lovemaking in Undella Town, but it seemed that she was not a stealthy lover. The rumors had started, and they'd both gotten threatening text messages on their phones from their parents as they hurriedly left town, and moved on towards the White Forest. If she could get him to focus on something other than rare young Pokémon for a minute, it could turn out to be an enjoyable time.

* * *

It was pretty fun. The days in the White Forest were all about Pokémon, but the nights were _exactly_ what she'd needed. Her father had thrown a room full of other equally rich and admittedly handsome men at her when she was using the Pokémon center in Undella. Rejecting so many offers would stress anyone, which is why whenever she so much as nudged, he was on her.

* * *

By the time they'd wandered into Black City, the dynamic changed again, as everyone in that hellhole had strong Pokémon teams. Many of the citizens outright tried to kidnap Jess on a daily basis, and they had both been required to fight them off in droves. Eventually, they took to battling their many amoral opponents as a team. It was challenging, yes, but they both grew stronger. They'd need that strength for the gyms of the Unova region.

* * *

Later, in Opeleucid City…

* * *

They never regretted spending a day battling in Black City, as they had indeed needed that strength to beat the gym leaders each of them had gone up against. Alex's idea of a training regimen had strengthened Chari enough to be able to carry Jess. Thus, while he was off in Castelia interviewing with John Crimson, she had battled Burgh as well, and then gone straight to Nacrene for that badge as well. It hadn't been easy, and she'd learned that normal types could be quite strong, if trained enough.

* * *

She was back in Castelia by the time he'd finished his silly interview, and had insisted on seeing John Crimson as well. Little did she know that while she was chatting with the Silver Fox about his glorious Ninetales, her lover was off beating Ghetsis, and releasing Reshiram, and Kyurem. It seemed that the latest incarnation of 'Team Plasma' had been obsessed with burning the world with the 'fire of truth', and with Kyurem, they had almost done it. But because Ghetsis was still an Arcean, he was obliged by them to investigate any 'disturbances' in the buildings they owned.

* * *

This absurd policy is ultimately what caused Ghetsis' latest philosophy to fail, and as a result, he'd threatened to leave the Church. Unwilling to give up such an influential and infamous figure as part of their group, the 'Prophet' of the Church, who was visiting Lacunosa Town promised to help Ghetsis personally. Instead of offering White Kyurem however, he offered the Unovan Dragon itself.

* * *

As this was going on, she, Alex, and her brother had all beaten Iris, the legendary gym leader, and former Champion of Unova. After those three consecutive losses, she decided to retire, and thus the Opeleucid Gym was left leaderless. A back-up of aspiring league challengers started forming within the day, but the trio didn't notice, as they'd already moved past the badge gates, and on to Victory Road itself.

Victory Road had certainly seemed easy enough, if a bit empty, but they arrived at the Victory Plateau slightly confused. It hadn't been nearly as challenging as they'd expected. After all, a new League challenge in a place like Unova was going to be popular. All they found on the road up was old men like Gary Oak, who had been strong and cunning, but ultimately easy to beat.

* * *

Alex had suggested he take the league challenge first, like Professor Oak had told them, and they agreed, even though it would likely mean they would only get a normal League victory on their records. It had still been interesting to watch, though. Battles on the top of the Victory Plateau were always in an epic setting, and Alex had battled with Reshiram well against N and Zekrom.

* * *

After parting for a While…

* * *

She hadn't expected to see him at all for Festivus, and true to his word, he had missed the start of the Unova region's 'feasting days'. A tradition from Europia, the towns around the University all gathered up by Derrion, as it was essentially the center of their 'region', and spent days feasting. From mid-November, to the end of December, the people of this small region used the massive surplus they grew from their Pokémon's aide to have a well-earned feast. While the day known as 'Black Day', for reasons nobody knew, marked the start of this celebration, Festivus was its end. As with every celebration, she'd been hit on relentlessly by anyone who'd been hitting the grog, something she didn't think she'd have to do this year.

* * *

Thus, when she got his text, that he was on his way, she'd rolled her eyes. He was the new Champion, and with all that the Arceans had done recently, his arrival here would be strange indeed. She paused then, and thought it over. If he'd spent the last few months in a Swamp, like he claimed, he wasn't in on the political changes in Unova. He was very likely flying straight home, which mean she needed to meet him by at least the Victory Plateau, or he'd walk into this storm blind.

* * *

Nobody noticed as she left, and she left alone. Her brother had visited early on during the holiday, after returning from the Orange Islands without the birds, or Lugia. He'd departed soon after, when he'd heard that Alex had decided to skip Festivus in order to train. He refused to fall behind again, and decided that he would finally return to Kalos. Their League challenge was starting up again, and this time, he knew he could sweep it. It would take more than his Greninja, but that was fine. He'd long since given up hope of having Gren solo the entire league.

* * *

Chari sensed her trainer's urgency, and thus the two flew quickly from their grand manor home, but they weren't quick enough. Jess raised the Firium Crystal she'd taken from the family's shrine to past Champions of their lineage, as she had seen Alex do, and let the power flow. Chari was like Blaze, it seemed, as she too gained horns and retained her typing as the power of a shard of Arceus' plate filled her. Her coloring was darker, however, almost red like a Charmeleon. It seemed no matter what form she took, this little Charmander runt would always be a bit strange.

* * *

With the increased speed of mega evolution, the two shot towards the Victory Plateau. There was less doubt in the trainer, now. Her Charizard had mega evolved. She was so cool, too. They'd be able to find Alex. They just wouldn't believe their eyes when they did.


	6. Disturb Not the Harmony

**Disturb Not the Harmony**

* * *

 **This is a canon short-story that you can skip, if you like. It's plot relevant, and takes place in the same time period as the main story.**

* * *

 **The Orange Islands - Kanto/Johto Region of Japan**

* * *

Connor Gladstone had come to the center of the Orange Islands of Japan for one reason. Like many other Trainers, he'd heard the legends of the Guardian of the Sea, a Lugia who was supposed to be stronger than any other in the world.

As a rule, its species was stronger than most, and rare enough to be considered a legend, but this particular Lugia was older, and stronger, than others encountered by Trainers. Not unlike Unova's Rayquaza.

* * *

He'd arrived on the island, parlayed with the locals, and now, he was on his way to the Lightning Island, home of Zapdos, supposedly. The other two islands had noticeably lacked Moltres or Articuno. He departed in the boat he'd rented, grabbed the yellow crystalline sphere at the shrine, and then searched for Zapdos. Like the others, it was nowhere to be found.

* * *

After heading back to the islanders, they pointed him in the direction of Slowking's shrine. The more he spoke with them, the more he was convinced they weren't telling him something, especially after not finding the legendary birds. He went to the shrine anyways, placed the colored spherical gems, and waited.

And waited.

The islands were gorgeous in August, even though it was almost over, but as the sun began to set, and deprive him of a view, he wondered if he'd have to wait all night. He was willing to, of course. He needed a Pokémon to rival Alex and Tao, and you didn't just find one on Tao's level sitting around. He'd wait all night if he had to.

* * *

It was as he thought that thought, that the voice spoke. "You won't find him." Connor turned, eyebrow raised. A Slowking stood behind him. If rumor was to be believed, he was the shrine's caretaker. Nothing to worry about, then. "You won't find him." He repeated, "You don't have the song."

"So teach it to me." Connor replied, standing and turning in one fluid motion.

The Slowking sighed. "It won't matter if I do. The Guardian isn't here." Its offspring was, guiding and keeping the ocean's current in balance while its parent was away, but this Trainer didn't need to know that. Humans had a tendency of disrupting the balance, if it meant gaining power. The same one had tried twice to capture the Guardian of the Sea. The second attempt had cost that human his life.

* * *

Connor's brow rose further. "Then where is it?"

The Slowking gave him a look. "You already have the answer to that."

Connor sighed. The rumors were true, then. He was part of _that_ Trainer's team, and trying to find information on that particular Trainer was a rabbit hole that everyone went down, eventually, but few ever managed to find him. He'd done more in his tenth year than most Trainers did in seven. He didn't stay in one place often. "Then where are the birds?"

"Gone. Captured, most likely, though the ones you're thinking of left long ago, after the second incident. Zapdos might still be around. I saw it a week past, during a storm." In truth, the storm had been the product of a Legendary electric type, Slowking hadn't seen Zapdos itself. But this human didn't need to know that, either.

"Zapdos it is, then." Connor sighed, and turned to leave. It wasn't Lugia, it wasn't even Moltres, the bird he would've preferred, but it was better than leaving empty handed.

* * *

The Slowking watched the Trainer go, and sighed. Many like him had come over the years. Repeated the ritual, best they knew how, and then left empty handed. The islanders had adapted, after the second incident perpetrated by the same man had made national headlines.

They charged such Trainers exorbitant fees to rent a room or a boat, or even to eat. That had driven most of them off, but this Trainer didn't seem bothered by it. He'd likely leave empty handed too.

Slowking sighed again, watching the sun fade completely, and as he did, he noticed something. The lightning orb had begun to glow, though the others remained dormant. He knew Moltres and Articuno had left, as had Zapdos. He couldn't rightly figure out why it was glowing now.

* * *

The villagers greeted Connor's return from the shrine with the same passiveness, and fully expected him to leave. When he asked for a boat to go out again, they denied him, and he shocked them all by calling out Gren, and surfing away on his narrow back, despite the oncoming thunderstorm on the horizon. It promised to be a powerful one, but Connor ignored the islander's warnings. Great Trainers were not dissuaded by something as simple as bad weather.

It was hard going, as his Trainer was stocky, and Greninja were, as a rule, not big enough for a comfortable ride. They managed, as Gren was quite strong. Connor recalled him once they made landfall on Lightning Island, and began heading towards the shrine again.

Once there, he climbed to a nearby hill of sorts to the right of the thunder shrine, blinking in surprise as he realized it was metal he was now standing on. Rusted and old, he examined it further, only looking away when he heard the boom of thunder overhead, and noticed the sky was now dark with angry looking clouds.

* * *

Lightning flashed, and though he was momentarily blinded, a figure atop one of the nearby cliffs lining the shrine appeared once the blindness faded. It roared at him, and thunder boomed through the area again. Most Trainers would've been awed, but Connor simply grinned.

It made some sense. If the birds were captured or migrating, then what Pokémon would be better for watching over their energy filled homes than Ho-Oh's own trio? Connor blinked, and leapt off the pile of rusted metal, landing before the shrine. He pulled out his Unova style Pokédex, double checking the entry for the Pokémon he suspected now stood before him.

* * *

It was Raikou, of that there was no question, but this one was orange. That, too, made some sense. The current Champion of Kanto and Johto's Pokémon League was rumored to use the three 'Legendary Beasts' as they were sometimes called.

Raikou's eyes lit up with psychic power, and Connor's grin only widened as he heard its voice in his head. "You wish to tame the essence of lightning…" The massive thunder Pokémon leapt from the cliff, and landed before him with a deep snarl. "You can certainly try…"

* * *

Connor had no illusions about who he'd need to use for this particular battle. Gar, his Garchomp, was the obvious choice for his type advantage, but Connor had a feeling Earthquake and Dig wouldn't be effective against a Pokémon as fast as Raikou.

He went for his fastest then, and called out his Infernape, Ardor. Gren was technically the fastest, but he knew no amount of tricks would help this kind of type disadvantage. This was a Legendary Pokémon. Unlike most members of his species, Ardor's fur was crimson not orange, and as he saw what his opponent was, the flame on his head swelled.

* * *

Raikou started the battle, with lightning arcing from the clouds on his back. Ardor had decided to use a Mach Punch, before his Trainer could call it, and Connor sighed. His Infernape had a tendency to battle on his own instinct, and take things too far. It was a theme, with fire types. Even those who were well trained.

There was a reason he'd kept the impulsive ape around, though. He dodged the electric attacks easily, and while a normal punch wouldn't normally do all that much, this one hit Raikou's jaw with unerring accuracy and a lot more power. Enough to daze him, for a moment.

* * *

"Close Combat!" The Infernape fell into a stance for his own unique style of fighting which his Trainer had nicknamed the 'Iron Fist', and as each of the fighting type hits from his legs and feet landed, Raikou seemed to take them without an issue.

"Is that all you have?" Thunder boomed with its' telepathic words. "Come! Give me a _challenge_!" It roared again, and the heavens seemed to shake with the force of it. The fact that it could speak wasn't necessarily unusual, not to Connor, anyways.

Most Legendary Pokémon had some kind of latent psychic potential. He did wonder who taught it Common, though. It attacked then, with a Thunder Fang, and Ardor's hands lit up with fire as he caught the manifested electric jaws.

Ardor looked back to his Trainer, for once, seeking guidance. His Trainer nodded. "Do it." The Infernape leapt back, narrowly dodging the fangs as they clashed shut, and then lunged forward again. Instead of a punch however, this time, he used a kick. His foot was enveloped with fire as he slid under Raikou's guard, and then launched the Blaze Kick upwards into the Legendary tiger's chin.

* * *

"Now, Fire Punch!" The force of the kick had actually managed to lift the legendary beast off the ground, onto his back legs, and Ardor let his momentum carry him as he arched his back, and flipped backwards from the kick. His fist was enveloped in flame then, and he let it carry him to his target, hitting the tiger-like beast directly in the chest.

There was a thunderous crash as the Raikou was sent backwards into one of the nearby rock faces. It rose from the rubble then, and took a different approach. The Raikou leapt onto the pile of rusted metal, and electric sparks ran through it, making its outline obvious.

It took Connor a moment to realize that was the one of the airships that had almost caused a global unbalancing of the ocean current. It had to be the first. There hadn't been anything left of the second. Several bolts of electricity hit the metal as they arced down from the clouds, and then curved towards Raikou, who redirected them towards his opponent.

* * *

They were fast, and relentless, all Ardor could do was dodge. Every time he tried to approach Raikou's perch, it attacked with Thunder, scorching the ground before it. Eventually, it grew tired of being dodged by the agile ape, and once more changed tactics. The electricity clung to the Legendary Beast's form, and then expanded in a circular wave of energy. A Discharge.

Knowing that kind of hit would put them at even more of a disadvantage, Connor acted. "Get some height, then Blaze Kick through it!" Ardor moved quickly, climbing the shrine itself and leaping. The wave of energy was almost upon him once he'd gotten the kick going, but it pushed back against the attack, and hit him regardless.

The flames had been unable to push through the wall of electric power, and Ardor hit the ground hard. Rain began to fall from the darkened clouds, and given the region they were in, it soon increased in its' intensity. Ardor's flame weakened, but both he and the Raikou were panting. Connor eyed both of them, and nodded. It was time to finish this.

* * *

Raikou sensed the end of this bout coming as well, and another Discharge formed around its body. This next round would decide it. Ardor met his opponent's gaze, and the flame on his head swelled…and swelled. He didn't like losing, and he wasn't going to let this so-called Legendary Beast show him up. He let the flames engulf him, and roared, pounding his chest in challenge.

"Fire Punch!" Connor called the move as the Discharge came, and Ardor's burning fist finally managed to push through it. He was better at punching, then kicking. The flames around his body kept most of the damage from him, but he was holding on by a thread. One more hit would likely knock him out.

* * *

The comet-like form of the fire ape slammed into Raikou, who caught the attack with his Thunder Fang. Both Pokémon winced as fire and electricity battled for supremacy, distracting the thunder Pokémon long enough for a Pokéball to slip past its' defenses.

Raikou's eyes widened in surprise, and as its form was called into the ball, Ardor fell to one knee, shivering with paralysis.

The Ultra Ball had a great success rate that had only improved over the years, as the technology was perfected. Technically, the one Connor had thrown was the third generation, the newest, and the one that had a catch rate almost as good as the Master Ball's.

* * *

The ball dinged shut, and once it did, Ardor collapsed, only to be caught by his Trainer, who had sped forward both to catch his Pokémon, and retrieve his prize. "Well done, Ardor." He said quietly, as he grabbed Raikou's ball. He recalled the fainted Infernape after feeding it a Max Revive, and let him rest.

Then, he called out his newest addition. The large, tiger-like Pokémon eyed him as he approached, and snarled as a Max Potion was applied to his wounds. Connor crossed his arms then. "If I take you from here, will the islands be out of balance?"

Those who knew of the incidents that had occurred here always knew just enough to be dangerous, but luckily, maintaining the balance of power between the three islands was common knowledge, and Trainers from all over Japan were ready to fly down and maintain it should it be disrupted.

* * *

The Raikou shook its' head. "There are other Guardians. One will come."

Connor nodded, trusting the Legendary Pokémon to understand such things better than he could. It was rumored that Raikou traveled by way of thunderbolts, and nothing he'd seen seemed to contradict that.

"Alright, then you're coming with me. We're going to Kalos…but first, a question. Who taught you to battle like that? And to speak the human tongue?" The large beast seemed to smirk at his new Trainer.

"One who, like you, had the drive and the power to rival a dragon." Despite not getting the Lugia he'd wanted, Connor grinned.

* * *

 **Four Days Later…**

* * *

Getting to Kalos all the way from the Orange Islands had taken longer than he'd wanted. Luckily, his new Raikou had the ability to dissipate storms, which had made crossing the enormous Mediterra mountain range much easier. He would've gone the other way, through Unova, but the Arceans of the Fornia region were very particular about who they let through their air space, and given that they controlled the entire coast, more or less, no pilot was willing to risk trying to sneak past.

Though they denied it, the Arceans had a tendency to have numerous 'accidents' from aircraft that tried to pass over their waters, but the desert of Orre, and their ability to suppress information, kept anyone from tying them to the accidents. As it was currently, only fellow Arceans and certain people from certain parts of the Sinnoh region were allowed through.

He'd eventually crossed the mountains, visited home for a few days, and after hearing that Alex was skipping Festivus in favor of training, had returned to Gaulia to do much the same. He could always return for the end of the holiday, and the start of the new year.

* * *

As he looked around the front of the airport, he sighed. Technically, he was in southern Kalos, a region sometimes called Gaulia. He'd switched out his Elektross, Tonitrus, in favor of Raikou, and while he knew ground type attacks would once again be a pain to deal with, this particular Raikou had informed him that he could handle such things.

Apparently, he had been the Pokémon of a master Black Belt in the region of Hoenn for many years, and together, they had developed a style of martial arts that even now the Legendary Pokémon was teaching him.

* * *

He'd come to Gaulia to continue his training. The Kalos League was set to start just before the end of Festivus, which gave him roughly two months to prepare for it. He already had the badges, now all he had to do was pass the Kalos Conference, and then take on the Four. Given the strength of their Champion, the Kalos League was considered almost as hard as Unova's.

As he made his way towards the village of ninja-esque Trainers who had originally trained both himself and his Greninja, he resolved to visit home at least once before the League started. He knew Alex was training as well, though he'd been less than forthcoming with the details. It didn't matter. If he could beat Alain, his neighbor would be no challenge.

* * *

The village elders welcomed him back with little ceremony, and a bit of hesitance. Once he showed them his new instructor, they agreed to let him stay. Many of his fellow trainees, who had never stopped training, were eager to learn this new fighting style as well. Raikou taught all who were willing to try, but he had an eye for those who could not handle it.

It was perfect for someone like Connor, with his large frame and honed swiftness, but those with smaller builds were eventually turned away by Raikou. His style involved combing speed and power in explosive demonstrations of force.

Those who had weaker bodies would never master his techniques. He did direct them to masters who _could_ make use of their strengths, and before long, every trainee not learning 'Raikou Style' martial arts was sent off across the world to find an appropriate master with the word of a Raikou vouching for their competence.

The village elders didn't seem to mind, nor did their families. The world was connected like it had never been before, and even though the developer of the Pokémon Storage system, Bill, was still working on a human teleportation device, one akin to the one used for Pokéballs, there were other ways of returning home quickly. The village elders often spoke with Raikou, and they took the Legendary Pokémon's advice without hesitation.

* * *

 **2 Months Later…**

* * *

The training had been long, difficult, and in the end, only Connor and a few other students were deemed 'masters' of Raikou's fighting style. At the end of the two month wait, Connor was the only one who left the village, garbed in the black and white garment given to children of the village who were seen as particularly strong, and wise. He hadn't earned it the first time he'd left, but he was ready for the Kalos League now.

His team had filled out nicely as well, as both his Grovyle, Itharius, and his Kadabra, Sophos, had evolved. While the rest of his team were now all as fast as he was, Gren remained the strongest by far. Only Sophos was unable to keep up with the rest, but after learning to levitate himself with his psychic power, he could keep up with all of them. He'd switched out Lancelus for Sophos, as Alakazam could actually Mega Evolve, and was quite strong with special attacks, something sorely needed on his team of fast, physical strikers. His goofy Reuniclus had simply been too slow.

Once Connor left the village, he set about looking for crystals, shards of Elemental Plates from a fallen incarnation of Arceus. Naturally, finding such things was difficult, at best, but he did have some luck after doing a bit of research.

* * *

Usually, such shards were found near the sites of massive planet-ending asteroid impacts that had been mitigated by the power of the Alpha Pokémon. Whenever a crisis that was capable of destroying the planet came about, it was always mitigated, somehow, by an unknown power.

Researchers had attributed it to Legendary Pokémon like Rayquaza, but every so often he found a reference to a catastrophe that was far beyond a Sky Guardian's ability to handle. In the end, he managed to find a Psychium crystal by wandering the forests near the edge of the Mediterra mountains.

* * *

He came across a Delphox, a wild one no less, and only after defeating it with Gren's aid did he realize that he recognized it. With Sophos translating, he was able to inform the distraught and beaten Pokémon that the Fennekin it was searching for was in good hands, with a good Trainer, and had already become a Delphox herself.

He spent the night in the Delphox's hut, and promised to inform his sister as to the whereabouts of it so that parent and offspring could see each other again someday. Before leaving, the psychic fox gave him a crystal, and a reading of his future. Much like Professor Oak, she told him to head to Kalos. All roads led there, it seemed.

* * *

He traveled to the gyms quickly, meeting with the Gym Leaders, who made sure he was still competent enough for the League challenge. He mainly used Sophos for these battles, as his Mega Form was slowly becoming strong enough to handle just about any challenger. As his strength grew, so too did his intellect, and by the time they came back to Lumiose for the conference, he was speaking in short sentences.

A year's difference didn't really affect the quality of Trainer in the conference, and Connor managed to once more beat whoever he came up against, although this time, he didn't rely on Gren alone. He used his Sceptile and Infernape respectively, and kept his ace hidden, saving his strength for the final battle with the Champion.

* * *

The conference ended the week before the end of Festivus, and on the last day, Connor once more challenged the Four…or he would have, if he hadn't been interrupted before he could face his first opponent.

The Festivus celebrations in Kalos were as enjoyable as the ones in Unova, but this year, security was relatively lax. With the Four and their undefeated Champion, Alain, the locals didn't worry about another Team Flare incident, and even if one did occur, they were sure their Champion would handle it.

It was as Connor was taking the elevator up to his first opponent that the entire castle-like building shook. Upon reaching the Elite Four member's chamber, the inhabitant within stepped off of the red throne, and joined him on the elevator. "I'm very sorry challenger, but your battle will have to wait until this disturbance is dealt with."

* * *

The rumors had said that Serena was lovely, and even as a woman several decades ahead of him, that fact remained true. Being one of the defenders of Kalos, Serena had taken the place of Malva when her ties to Team Flare were discovered. He'd beaten her easily with Gren a year earlier, though he didn't assume victory would be that easy this time around.

Once outside the League's building, she called out her Delphox as the source of the sudden attack on the stadium became clear. "What is _that_?" She said, pointing towards the sky.

* * *

Anyone who'd grown up in Unova, or the regions surrounding it, knew well the ominous outline of the infamous Plasma Frigate. While the airship that now moved over the stadium did indeed resemble that ship, it was newer, and fundamentally changed in design. Like most airships, it now had proper wings, complete with tandem rotor blades embedded in the wings for sustained hovering.

"That, madam, is a flying ship." Connor spoke softly, glaring at the black metal aircraft. "Team Plasma used one like it a few decades ago to freeze Opeleucid…but it's different somehow…" His eyes noticed it then.

* * *

Instead of plasma-sails, the 'mast' on the airship's deck was now an enormous t-shaped block of metal, supporting a symbol that was easily recognized. The Symbol of Arceus, all in gold, of course.

"Team Plasma was disbanded though." Serena looked back up at the ship, "So who is piloting it?" Connor called out Raikou then, who growled low as the ship came closer.

"I know that mark…" His psychic baritone rang in his Trainer's skull. While the symbol of Arceus was widely used by those who still clung to systems of worship around him left over from the Dark Times, the Arcean's had made their own variation unique by placing the golden symbol over a t-shaped cross.

* * *

Once the airship was above the stadium, the rest of the Four, including the Champion, came out to the front of the building. Alain and Connor locked eyes, briefly, before his Charizard joined them, alongside numerous other Pokémon from the other members of the Four.

A voice echoed from the ship then, and Connor spied a loudspeaker attached to the top of the 'mast'. "Members of the Kalos League, Challengers and Champions, behold. Your destruction has finally come."

A cry echoed throughout the plateau then, one that Connor was unfamiliar with, but was all too familiar to the citizens of Kalos who'd lived through Lysander's madness, and the remnants of Team Flare that tried to revive his dream. The voice rang out again as the Destruction Pokémon, Yveltal, flew out from above the ship, and began circling the plateau.

* * *

"Make this easy, Champion. You know what we want. Give it to us, and you may all leave here without turning to stone."

As Yveltal flew, its Dark Aura permeated the area around the League building, and from the ship, a white Gengar, in its Mega Form, landed before the group of Trainers and Pokémon. "Last chance. Come peacefully, or condemn everyone to death."

The Champion's Charizard looked ready to battle, but his Trainer stopped him. "Not this time. I'm not letting another madman hurt the people I care about."

He looked at the Gengar, whose eyes were glowing with a bluish white power that meant it was using some sort of psychic ability. "I'll come peacefully."

* * *

The Gengar levitated the Champion up to the ship, and his Charizard followed, circling the deck, ready to attack if its Trainer was harmed at all. Minutes crept by slowly, and yet, there was no outbreak of battle.

Connor, for his part, had ordered Raikou to be ready to hit Yveltal with a Thunderbolt if it made a move to attack them, but it only circled the mountain top, which was odd. All data on it said it attacked indiscriminately until it ran out of energy, and then entered a cocoon, that sucked the land dry. As a Legendary himself, Connor hoped Raikou would be able to keep the creature from killing them if it decided to attack.

* * *

More time passed until suddenly, Alain's Charizard landed on the deck of the airship, and then flew down to the ground with his Trainer. A beam of black light shot towards Yveltal, and it was recalled much in the way a Pokéball recalls a Pokémon. The ship sped off again then, headed in a north-eastern direction.

Connor didn't quite understand why, as the only thing in that direction was Norstad, a country full of technologically impaired 'barbarians', who fought their kinsmen for the glory of battle and bloody honor, with the help of subdued Pokémon.

The ban on technology included Pokéballs, and he could only imagine how an airship would be received. Let alone one that was presumably full of self-righteous and conversion happy Arceans. Insulting a Norstadder's gods was a good way to end up as one of the slaves they sold to the Imperium.

* * *

As the Champion landed, he did not give an explanation as to what the mysterious voice had asked for. In fact, his only command was to resume testing this year's conference winner. Before he walked away, Connor spoke up, "If I beat you, you tell me what they wanted from you."

The Champion glanced back at him, then sighed. "Deal. But you'll never beat me with a Greninja."

He did however, beat Serena, and her colleagues, all of whom managed to pull promises of sharing whatever the Champion told him, if he managed to win.

* * *

The actual battle with Alain went much the way it had a year prior, at least in the beginning. Gren showed his skill against the Champion's Tyranitar, and despite Mega Evolving, the win once again went to the Greninja.

He was switched out then however, as a Metagross appeared on the field, and Mega Evolved as well. The only Pokémon Connor had that could possibly match it was Ardor, his Infernape, and with speed and type advantage, he won that as well. Ardor stayed in for two more bouts then, against Alain's Sceptile and Bisharp, and won.

Exhausted as he was however, Connor brought out Raikou to take care of his Talonflame, which then only left his Charizard.

* * *

The battle a year earlier had gone similarly well in Connor's favor, but by this time, Gren had been exhausted, and the Mega Sceptile that had been his last opponent had torn through his untrained team easily once it dispatched his ace.

This time, the Champion's ace came in against his full team, save Ardor, and was starting against a Legendary Pokémon no less. Raikou didn't give it a chance to Mega Evolve, as the Thunderbolts started coming immediately, and didn't stop.

* * *

Whenever the Charizard tried to advance to the next stage of evolution, a Discharge ruined its focus, and as it retained its flying type, it was quite damaging. It did eventually manage to Mega Evolve, and after that, despite getting in a few more hits and a Thunder Fang, Raikou went down. Alain's Charizard was arguably the strongest in the world, and this only proved it. There was a reason he'd stayed Champion for so long.

Instead of Gren, Connor brought out Gar, which caused the Champion, and his Charizard, to pause. Even today, they hesitated when facing a Garchomp. If only for a moment. A sandstorm soon filled the Champion's chamber, and Gar began zipping around, desperate to hit the dodging Charizard with a Dragon Rush.

When Alain finally ordered a Dragon Claw attack after seeing his wounded partner torn apart by the harsh sand, the Dragon Rush hit home, and the damage from Raikou, the Sandstorm, and the final Dragon Rush move finally bought the Charizard down.

It took a moment for Connor to realize he'd finally won. He hadn't soloed it with his Greninja, but in hindsight, that had been a ridiculous goal. Unrealistic. Something he'd expect from his rival, not him.

* * *

Alain recalled his partner, and then brought Connor up to the Hall of Fame. It was almost as old as Unova's had looked, but was easily far more ornate. The Kalosians did love their décor. Once his team was entered into the Hall's records, and his title as Kalos Champion was officially bestowed, he asked Alain about the incident earlier. The entire thing still unnerved him.

The Arceans had a reputation for retaliation, and his sister had recently very publicly helped remove them from Castelia City. Killing him with Yveltal would've been easy, satisfying, and yet the Arceans hadn't attacked. It didn't make sense, until Alain started explaining.

* * *

"The man running the ship did not introduce himself, though I can only surmise that he must have been Caleb Pravus. He fit the description, at any rate. He's after Xerneas, more specifically, the eternal life that particular Pokémon can bestow upon others. Up until now, I've denied his requests for an audience, or any information about Xerneas…but as you saw, I had no choice today." Alain sighed.

Connor spoke quietly, his sense of dread only growing. "Did you tell him where to find it?" The power from the Life Pokémon was rumored to give true immortality. Short of total atomization, survival was guaranteed. Forever. That kind of gift in the hands of the Arcean's leader was, based on the information his sister had shared, a very bad combination.

* * *

"I only know of two Xerneas. The one here in Kalos is sleeping, as our Yveltal is now awake again. The other…is rumored to be in Norstad." The Champion averted his gaze. "I can only hope the people there do not know where it is, or have countermeasures against people like Pravus. I could practically see the greed in his eyes once I told him."

Connor began heading for the exit elevator. "I'll stop him before he ever gets there. Those people don't have the tech to repel a weaponized airship."

Alain gave a humorless chuckle. "I wouldn't worry about the locals…five minutes with Pravus, and they'll probably kill him for fun. There's more. He bragged about an upcoming attack on Unova…he said it was set for tonight."

* * *

Connor pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course he'd set his followers loose on Festivus Eve. There were ways of crossing oceans quickly, and while he knew Sophos might fly him over with Psychic, it would take too long, and he would never stop hurling. "I'll head to Unova…try to help."

Alain raised a brow. "And how do you expect to arrive in time? The sun is setting, the attack is probably coming soon, if it hasn't already begun."

Connor hit the button for the elevator, and grinned at the former Champion. "I have a Pokémon that runs so fast, it can cross oceans. I'll be fine. Try to send word to Norstad. We're headed there, next."

Alain's brow rose higher. "We?"

* * *

Raikou had fought bravely against Alain's Charizard, but after a Max Revive and a Max Elixir, as well as a short rest at the Pokémon Center in the League building, Connor was on his back, and headed towards the western coast of Kalos.

Raikou ran just as fast on land as he did on water, and given the lack of hard terrain, water was actually quicker. He knew Alex and Jess could likely handle whatever the Arceans were planning on hitting Unova with, but it never hurt to have another skilled Trainer nearby.

* * *

Even if Unova was already full of skilled Trainers, he needed those two for other things. According to his sister, Alex had gotten even stronger, after training in the Swamp. From her description, Pravus had almost beaten him, which meant taking on him and a ship full of his henchman alone was a bad idea.

He only hoped they had a faster method of travel, as Raikou could only comfortably carry him, and maybe his sister. Even then, it would take a lot longer to reach Norstad from Unova.

* * *

About thirty minutes passed before the cloud of dust behind Raikou became a spray of water. There was relatively flat land between the Kalos League's plateau and the coast, and there were plenty of rivers to run on as well. Raikou estimated that the trip over the Atlantican Ocean would take about two hours, and the sun was just past its zenith above them, turning the sky orange. Accounting for time difference, it would be setting in Unova soon as well. As the seemingly endless expanse of cold water opened up before them, Connor only hoped they'd arrive in time to be helpful.


	7. Gilroy Redwood, Pokemon Professor

**Gilroy Redwood, Pokémon Professor**

* * *

 **This is a 'canon' short-story with relatively important plot information. But you can skip it, if you like.**

* * *

Gilroy Redwood, who went by 'Gil' most of his life, became a Pokémon Professor around the same time the far more famous Samuel Oak did. Unlike his Kanto counterpart however, he stayed in Unova, in his family's home town.

There had always been a Redwood Lab adjacent to their farm land, handing out Pokémon to Trainers from towns all over the largely unpopulated north east. Most would hardly even call that area Unova, Unovans would call it 'northern Unova', and given that not many people lived up there, not many people minded the lack of an official region name.

Unova was close enough of a trip whether by car or flying Pokémon, so it didn't really matter to the locals of that area. It was, however, far enough for Professor Juniper and her associates not to bother with it. Unova proper had enough Trainers as it was, and it was hard enough getting them Pokémon.

Because of the general lack of people, Trainers around that region within a region didn't usually go off on journeys. The people who lived there could generally trace their roots in the area back five generations, and the Redwoods were no exception. Unlike more populated regions, this also meant that the official lab servicing the area didn't stick to a trio of particular starter Pokémon. It was more of a 'choose what's around, and go catch it' type of experience.

* * *

This is also what caused the local Trainers to start so much later than other regions. The north east was dangerous, home to Tyranitar, Ursaring, and even the occasional Beartic. The winters were usually harsh and long, and the summers didn't tend to last through August.

Despite all this adversity, the area did tend to breed a tougher kind of Trainer, for the few who actually bothered to prepare to go on a journey. Most kids worldwide were taught early on about tall grass being dangerous, but the locals here had a different tradition.

They let their youngsters wander the woods, and they left it to the esteemed Professor Redwood to teach them. There were wild Pokémon all over the place, and walking through grass was an inevitable nuisance. Thus, the community had decided long ago to educate the children early.

This was how poor Gil got roped into sticking around his hometown. He would've much preferred to go south and study the strange Swamp that took up half the coast, or continue to wander the world searching for unique variations of known Pokémon species, like the Black Salamence, but he was needed at home. It was hard to up and leave when most of the youngsters relying on you for their education were related by blood.

* * *

The Redwoods had, by far, the largest family for miles, with an aged manor home that could barely fit them all. They never had an issue with extending the barn to make room for more Miltank and Tauros, but Gil's brother, Renault, had outright refused to let anyone touch the house itself.

When Gil and Renault's father, Professor Alaric Redwood, finally passed, the surrounding towns were left without an official Pokémon Professor for several years, as Gil was still getting educated. Becoming a genuine Pokémon Professor tended to take a long time, especially if your specialty was on rare and unique Pokémon that were, more often than not, completely made up.

* * *

Gil spent many years as a Trainer of sorts, on the road, traveling the world. Decades had passed by the time word reached him of his father's death, and his brother's. Thus, he managed to miss his nephew's generation entirely, and they were all grown by the time he returned to the family lab at the ripening age of seventy-five.

It became obvious on day one that he would be arguing with his brother's children for the rest of his life. Renault had four, and they themselves were in the process of making even more children. Renault had passed while Gil was still in school, and thus when he finally returned, his young nephew Frederick was playing the 'man of the house'.

* * *

It was an altogether dreary, depressing place in his opinion. The children had clearly been raised 'proper' and saw Pokémon as a source of income, not fascinating creatures meant to be studied and loved.

Frederick had three siblings, Lisa, Edward, and Gilbert (who also went by Gil, making things even more confusing), and they were all in the process of expanding the family line. In short, he returned to a house full of pregnant women and screaming babies. This is how he took to shutting himself in his lab's basement, rather than the uppermost room of the manor.

Everyone was okay with this, as 'The Professor', as they all called him, had a 'foul and disgusting habit'. Smoking Leaf had been illegal during his school days, and that had only made it slightly thrilling. Now, he mostly smoked to alleviate the headache his relatives gave him.

* * *

He spent some years living like that, out of his lab's basement, until eventually, by an act of Arceus, he found a woman. Elaine was a 'local', which meant she was from one of the surrounding towns. Nobody cared that her hometown was on the north-eastern coast, they still considered her 'local'.

For a local, she was quite a looker. Hair that was a wonderful cross between red and scarlet, curves in all the right places, and as if that wasn't enough, she shared his sarcastic wit and love of the Leaf. He knew as soon as he met her, and discovered these things, that he would marry that girl.

Which of course, he did, despite his age. With their technology, humans were living longer than ever, and the males of their species didn't lose their juice until they hit their nineties. It also helped when one's lover had a thing for older men and still looked as young as women in University.

* * *

For about a year, things were fine. Their basement was extended, if only to give them a private bedroom, and while it was cozy and stank of many, many smoked bowls of Leaf, the two were quite content to live there.

The trouble started when Elaine discovered she was having a girl. The Leaf smoking stopped, of course, and suddenly, their living conditions were unacceptable, a fact Gil agreed with. The only problem was that by now, everyone had four-year olds running around the main house.

Frederick was also finally married which meant the promise of more children, and he refused to expand the house, as his father had, and also refused to let Gil take his portion of the family money to build a proper house elsewhere. Gil even offered to extend the lab into a second house, but that too was 'unacceptable'.

These long months of stress, coupled with the total lack of stress-relieving Leaf sessions, is what caused Gil's hair to finally turn from a rich auburn-brown to gray. Not entirely at first, but enough to be noticeable, around his dwindling hair-line.

* * *

What turned him snowy white was his wife's death, in childbirth. As obscure as their town was, they'd made the trip to Unova for the birth, and for reasons that were never fully explained to him, he lost his wife, but gained a daughter. The combination of shock, lack of sleep, and having to drive a screaming child up to his home kept him from questioning it properly for years.

As a Professor, he should have pressed harder. He had been trained to handle human injuries, as well as Pokémon's, and he knew enough about the body to understand the medical jargon that the average layman would not. He stayed preoccupied however, as the depression, funeral planning, and lack of sleep kept him from being anywhere near as sharp as he should have been.

His demeanor changed, after that trip. He stopped arguing with his relatives, barely leaving his lab. Almost all of his aides left, and the few that stayed only did so because they had become ingrained in the town after spending so long at the relatively isolated lab. Many said that he'd simply lost the 'spark' that had driven him to investigate even the most absurd rumor in search of a new Pokémon, and it was only his years of travel and experience that kept the rest around. That, and his always-full Leaf jar.

* * *

His daughter, Malina, grew up in the main house mostly, spending most nights with the other children. By the time she was five, she was already sick of their smelly basement, and was more than eager to get on with becoming a Trainer. Her father didn't often brighten up, but every once in a while, he'd tell her about his travels. For a brief moment, the man he used to be would return.

The cold cynic would always come back, however, as the story only had one ending, and he stopped telling it long before he got to mentioning her mother. By the time Malina was ten, Frederick had finally managed to have his first child, who he'd named Alexander. Up until then, he and his wife had cared for her like a daughter most of the time, and she was a large part of what kept the two men from arguing.

* * *

Malina was sixteen when she demanded to be taught to be a Trainer, claiming that Unova girls were already adventuring, and taking down evil organizations with full teams of Pokémon. She had a point, as everyone had seen what Hilbert and his sister had accomplished against Team Plasma. The old Professor finally relented, and resumed teaching the new generation about Pokémon, as best he could.

Aside from a few Trainers who came by seeking a proper starting Pokémon, his students were the offspring of his own nieces and nephews. He taught them everything his own grandfather had, how to walk in tall grass without angering wild Pokémon, which Pokémon were territorial, which would attack to defend their territory, and which would simply growl if they accidentally intruded.

* * *

He noticed two things as he began educating his thirteen relatives. His own daughter, and Frederick's son, were remarkably close. What was more, was the son in question clearly did not take after his father. His eyes lit up around Pokémon just as brightly as Malina's. He clearly loved them, and one had to be blind not to see that love reciprocated. He'd narrowed his little eyebrows at the idea of his Miltank friends being sources of money, rather than individuals, at which point his father had passed him to the Professor to teach. He'd been in class for a week before Alex and his daughter had run off to the nearest pond to try to find a Squirtle, or a Bulbasaur. Naturally, the rest of the kids had followed, and Gil pretended not to notice. There was to be a full moon that night, and the air had a tingle to it. There was no better time for fate to unite a Pokémon and a human.

It ended rather quickly, when young Alex's father found out. The other children had been just as eager, but when their parents discovered their plans to go around the nearby wilds in search of Pokémon, they mostly shut them down. A few of the older kids, like Malina, Geralt, and Aria had already managed to catch an Eevee, Rockruff, and Swablu respectively, by convincing them to become their partners. That too, was a Redwood specialty.

* * *

Like his grandfather, Gil taught the kids that offering a chance to join your team, rather than snatching a Pokémon from their home, usually made for better companions. Some Pokémon would battle to test a Trainer's worthiness sure, but most were capable of deciding whether they wanted to be part of a Trainer's team or not.

It was an 'outlandish' theory to the more popular Pokémon Professors, who to that very day continued to tell new Trainers that 'weakening' them was key, but it was one theory that Gil had seen disproven over and over again on his travels. There was no need for a battle if the Trainer in question could approach a Pokémon properly.

He had no idea where the concept of needing to battle before catching came from, but he'd done his best to discredit it. That, along with his discovery of the difference between truly unique species variations, and regional variations, was what had given him his small amount of fame.

* * *

With most of the burgeoning Redwoods prohibited from becoming Trainers, Malina's closeness with Alex's parents soon faded, and only faded further as they were primarily focused with caring for Eric, who'd been born three years after his brother. When Gil made his rare visit to the main house to watch the PNN, and his old friend John Crimson, he noticed something else that irked both him, and his daughter.

Eric had been four when the family decided that catching more Pokémon would mean too many mouths to feed, now he was eight, and his brother was ten. There was no ten-year-old alive that wanted a Pokémon as badly as Alex Redwood. He talked constantly to his 'Gruncle Red' about having a Charmander, or maybe an Oshawott, or a Tepig, and so on. It changed almost hourly, but he usually stuck to Charmander as his default.

* * *

His father was adamant though, he could have a Pokémon when he could afford one. It was no secret that the family funds were running on the low side, even with Gil doing what he could to help out. Pokémon Professors got a nice paycheck from the Pokémon League, especially when they actually started a Trainer on their journey. It was hard to do that, given the lack of gyms in their 'region', but he managed.

When Eric turned ten, he was presented with a Squirtle. The family's fortunes had slowly improved, or so Frederick had claimed, and the new generation was allowed to choose partners, with young Alex being the exception. Gil was there for that too, as was Malina, who had just finished her final year at University. She'd inherited her father's mind, praise Arceus, and was on the fast track to becoming a Professor in her own right. That night, as Alex's brother slept soundly curled up with his new Squirtle, the thirteen-year-old and his favorite cousin went to see his father.

Gil had sighed when Eric received the Squirtle, and seeing the glimmer of hope in the young Alex's eyes fade as they took in that sight caused more of a heart ache than he thought he could still feel. His naïve daughter had been sucked in by those large blue eyes on the verge of tears, and she later admitted she spent much of that night to keep him from crying. Even back then though, he'd managed to keep his face somewhat passive, though his chin had trembled.

* * *

When asked why Alex was still being denied a Pokémon, Frederick's response had been to push his son into the hall, and have a long talk with his uncle's daughter. His reasoning had been thus: because Alex had a tendency to be quiet, shy, and withdrawn around people, the local grade school teacher had informed his parents that something was 'wrong with him'.

When he did talk, it was about Pokémon. Rather than doing math, he drew doodles of Charmander. Even at recess, he'd wander into the nearby woods and entertain himself with the Caterpie there, rather than join the other kids. Were it not for his size, he would've been bullied.

His parents had 'tested' him then, driving him down to Unova so a 'proper doctor' could examine him. The doctor had found him to be 'slow' and recommended keeping him from becoming a Trainer, lest he hurt someone with the power a Pokémon could put out. It wasn't that far-fetched of a fear. There were teenagers running around taming Legendary Dragons, after all.

Malina was, of course, furious when she heard this. It was clear what young Alex's parents thought of their children. One was a 'Professor in the making'. One would be lucky to live out his life as a stable hand. Naturally, she went to her father with this news, only to discover that he'd known about the Squirtle. Gil had tried reasoning with his nephew, but as usual, that got him as far as it ever had, and it seemed Alex would continue to be denied a Pokémon. Frederick had even gone as far as to threaten to evict the Professor if he got one for his son anyways.

* * *

That, more than anything, set his daughter off, and it was only his laughing that kept her from demolishing their cozy basement furnishings. He told her that she reminded him of her mother, even though she'd inherited his brain and his hair color. They talked long into that night, and even enjoyed a bowl of Leaf. He wasn't all that surprised to learn she'd become fond of it while away at school.

The next morning, she demanded that they go down to the hospital in Castelia City to find out what had actually happened to her mother. Given that he had always preferred Pokémon to machines, he called out his aging Rapidash, who was still every bit as fiery as he'd been in their youth, and rode him down to the city.

* * *

It was more crowded than he remembered, but much of his memory of his last visit down here had been hazed over by pain and time. Malina was adamant though, and eventually, they tracked down the hospital. Gil had to blink several times as he stared up at the symbol that now adorned the entrance of the building that had not been there previously.

The symbol of Arceus, supported by a metal cross underneath it. Evidently, the Arcean Church had bought out yet another building. He paused, holding his daughter by the shoulder. "We should stay out here. There's no reason to get involved with these people…and knowing them, the records are probably ash by now."

Malina sighed at him, "Dad, most records are kept on computers. Honestly, how old _are_ you?"

The Professor sighed, and muttered something about being too old for 'tude, before heading in. The desk monitor already had her hand on the desk phone, presumably to summon security, as he walked in. He didn't particularly find a brown suit covered by a lab coat threatening, but evidently this poor woman did.

* * *

"'Morning, ma'am. I was here about two decades ago with my wife, while she was giving birth to this one," He patted his daughter's head, and smirked as both women gave him a look, "Unfortunately she died during the birth, and nobody could tell me why. I wasn't in my right mind at the time, not enough to prod anyways, but now we'd both like some answers. Do you happen to have any records from back then?"

The woman looked between him, and his daughter, then shrugged. "You can hav'a look in tha basement. Don't get'cha hopes up though. Floodin's a bitch." He nodded his thanks, but the evidently locally born and bred woman was already focused on her Holociever again.

* * *

Upon seeing the basement, the Professor had to agree. Flooding had indeed been a bitch, but by an act of Arceus, the records from the year in question had been stored on a top shelf, and thus were some of the only papers still intact.

The two Redwoods searched what they could when the Professor suddenly asked, "Malina, what did you say the name of Alex's doctor was? The one Fred took'im to?"

She was by his side seconds later. "I think it was…Doctor Ein…wait, he handled mom, too?"

The Professor's eyes narrowed as he examined the picture. "That name…seems so familiar…but why?"

The two left quickly and quietly then, with a lead to follow. The entire ride back up to Derrion Town, the Professor was lost in thought, using his considerable brain power to try to remember why that name sounded so familiar to him.

* * *

Once he got home, he began researching on the PokéNet as his daughter eventually dozed off on their basement couch. He'd shared as many stories of her mother with her as he could bear, over a bowl of Leaf of course, and then once they'd cried themselves out, she had fallen asleep. It was hard to remember she was still just a kid as, like her mother, she'd developed relatively early. He had enough on his mind though, and put the thought of worrying about boyfriends away for another time.

Three hours into his research, he finally dug up something useful. An report from Orre, where a scientist by the same name had been involved in the Shadow Pokémon incident, a calamity that had gained worldwide attention when it had been leaked that a Lugia had, briefly, been infected with shadow energy as well. Thankfully, the science was too complex to easily replicate, and those who had started the research were either in prison, or defectors who sold out their former comrades for reduced or no jail time.

The Professor had had many gut feelings over the course of his life, and he didn't like where this one was leading him. He needed to follow it regardless, however, which meant more digging. He left his daughter a note, got a haircut, and trimmed his beard. He added a bit of hair dye, red like his wife's had been, and he was reasonably disguised.

He got on his Noctowl, Soren, then and headed for the distant Fornia region. The trek was long, and his Noctowl was as old as he was, but he was still a stealthy flier. They moved at night, when he was hard to see, and eventually, they managed to enter the Fornia region by coming down from the north-western coast. That small region was the only part of the coastline to remain free of Arcean control.

* * *

Infiltrating the Church wasn't exactly difficult. They welcomed new members, especially members with a background in science and the study of Pokémon. A friend in the north-western Takoma region had given him a fake ID, as a Fornia-certified Professor. His name was changed, but his skills were still very much real. Within a week, he had passed their PokéMeter tests, and was admitted into their main lab in the center of the region, in the city of Sacreus.

Being inside the organization itself, it was easy to see why so many people clung so tightly to their status as a member of this cult. At that moment, he was a cog in a much larger machine, and had he not had an ulterior motive, he might've been swayed into believing their menial busywork actually had a greater purpose. It was nice thinking that their efforts were benefiting the entire planet.

The longer he stayed, however, the more the corruption began to peek through the cracks in the aesthetically pleasing society. Coworkers would appear with bruises after not having any the day before. Female workers were often called into their superior's offices, and one didn't have to be psychic to guess what was going on behind the doors. He could only hope it might be consensual.

* * *

What got him in trouble, were the children. He loved teaching young ones, and had done so many times on his travels, as well as back home. They made him laugh, and always had questions. His station in the medical wing often had him walk by classrooms full of children, whose parents were presumably hard at work 'in the name of Arceus' prophet'. He noticed one of the supervisors of these children, not much older than some of his own family members, getting far too friendly with several of them. Boys, girls, it didn't seem to matter to the man in question.

He reported it to his superior of course, with the idea that not even the Arceans, who he'd never had a high opinion of to start with, would be okay with a pedophile in their midst. Instead of punishment however, the supervisor in question was moved to a different classroom, and Gil got to spend eight consecutive hours in 'PokéMeter Therapy', until he admitted that he'd only 'made up' those accusations because he had 'guilt' for his own 'crimes'. After eight hours of repeatedly answering the same damned question, he made up whatever lie he could, just to get out of that room. After that, he began to understand why it was so hard for people to leave. This was little more than brainwashing. Legal brainwashing, he reminded himself.

He resolved to get out as soon as he could, and thankfully, an opportunity presented itself two weeks after he was brought to live at the facility. His room was spartan, and he'd seen jail cells with better lodging, but he didn't mind. Living in this hellhole gave him access to what he needed: files.

* * *

He'd mentioned early on that he could work night shifts with ease, and as he'd guessed, most of the other night workers were not nearly as adjusted. Most adults worked sixteen-hour shifts, so he couldn't blame them. Most teenagers worked the same shifts. If you were in an Arcean family, you let the Church educate you, and Church education, as usual, left much to be desired. Like actual education. Those who conformed to the rather harsh standards required by Arcean Trainers excelled, and were given the basic knowledge one would need to function as a Trainer in a foreign region. Those who did not conform, as they rather preferred to enjoy their freedom their own way, ended up mining for fossils in the region's north at large, isolated camps run by only a few adults.

The lack of education was yet another shackle that kept the potentially disillusioned cultists where their leaders wanted them, as even if they did escape, they would never earn enough money to support themselves alone. If one family member left the Church, the others either disconnected from them in every conceivable way, or left with them. Sadly, the families in question, while saddened at losing a family member, thought the 'Prophet's mission' was far more important. Thus, the very idea of leaving was considered taboo. It was a clever idea, turning every member of the cult into a potential snitch certainly dissuaded any thoughts of disloyalty or subversion, but at the same time, it did not promote trust between the people of the region.

It was on one of his many graveyard shifts that he finally managed to find what he needed: a detailed file on 'Doctor' Ein's experiments. It seemed that after the Cipher Organization had fallen to pieces, the Arceans had moved down the coast to absorb what was left of them. One of their own former admins, Ardos, was reportedly working for the Prophet himself, as one of his Hands. The idea was that, because Arceus himself was rumored to have created reality with a thousand arms, his 'Prophet' should have many arms as well. It was the highest position one could hope to attain in the Church. Some Hands had more importance than others, but all had the authority, and security clearance, to enact the Prophet's will.

* * *

The research on Ein's work almost made him grimace where he crouched. The Church had evidently started up the process of creating Shadow Pokémon again, but as before, they had been unstable. This Ein character had gotten the brilliant idea to use human stem cells to try to stabilize the darkness, and after injecting them into several Pokémon eggs, they'd had a breakthrough. The madman had copied what the scientists behind Team Rocket's Mewtwo disaster had done. Evidently, they wanted history to repeat.

He couldn't really blame them, as Mewtwo was monstrously strong. According to the file, the specially infected Pokémon were bathed in Shadow energy, and then handed out to local Trainers, as this variant of Shadow Pokémon could gain strength from battle, but only as an unevolved species. Naturally, the poor things were confused, angry, and unable to bond, unless their Trainer proved themselves by dominating their partner.

In this way, the Fornian Trainers kept the weaker bleeding hearts from advancing too far in the Church, while those who embraced their cruelty were given legitimate power, to be used in the name of the Prophet.

* * *

The Professor's gut guided him towards the source of the stem cells used, and his lunch nearly came up as his worst fears were discovered. The use of stem cells to extend human life and repair damaged organs had been discovered ages ago, the only problem was getting a supply of them. Most modern doctors had moved on to other methods of repair, and only used such cells sparingly when needed from the donated surplus their organizations managed to collect, but from what the files he dug up said, the Church had been gathering a stockpile large enough to support a second Shadow Pokémon project. Many of their sources were hospitals in Unova, and other States that their Church considered 'enemies'.

He could only imagine what two decades had done for their research. He carefully took the files, and gave them to his Noctowl that night, who carried them to a safe place, far from Arcean jurisdiction. Given that they were paper files, created in case the computers ever went down, he didn't expect them to be discovered missing for quite some time.

* * *

As he entered his third week of hard meaningless labor and graveyard shifts, the wear was starting to show, but he couldn't give up yet. He needed hard evidence to tie Ein to his wife. He'd read that one of the methods of collection was siphoning cells from umbilical cords that were supposed to go to legitimate facilities, and legitimate doctors who, presumably, still held a moral code.

Such methods could only get so many cells however, and after finding a vague mention of siphoning cells from fetuses about to be born, it didn't take a large leap in logic to assume what might have happened to his wife.

He could stand to be tired if it meant discovering that secret. He'd even risked being caught, but he no longer cared. The truth was out there, and it was so close. He remained stealthy however, always making sure to get a full rest before attempting another search. It didn't mitigate the exhaustion completely, but it helped.

* * *

It took many long hours of scouring through records both physical, and on the net. He knew he risked discovery by using his computer, but he had no choice, if it meant following a lead. He tried to hide his extracurricular searches in between the numerous logs he made to keep the medical wing running smoothly twenty-four seven, but eventually, his luck did run out.

It was on the day that he finally found hard evidence of Ein's pass card being used on the same Unovan labor ward his wife had been in, when he was confronted. He'd been the only person in the office that night, and had taken the chance to dig online for what he needed. Had he been more awake, he might've smelled the not-so-subtle trap.

* * *

"Well well well." A smooth baritone interrupted his search, and he felt a chill go down his aging spine. The tone might've been charming had it not oozed sleaze. "Someone has been searching for information in _all_ the wrong places. You're clever though, Professor Redwood. It took us far longer than I'd like to admit to notice where you were digging, and why."

After spending over a month pretending to be a devoted Arcean, the Professor knew who he was talking to. The Prophet of the Arcean Church was a figure the workers pledged their oaths of loyalty to on a daily basis. He coughed, his voice rough from disuse, "Caleb Pravus…I thought I smelled a Muk."

The strike to his cheek was as hard as it was fast, and it sent the elderly Professor spinning in his chair towards his keyboard. He snagged his data disk, and slid it up his sleeve, along with the saved napkins he'd kept from dinner. He glared at the man, wondering how anyone could purposefully go for the 'evil villain' look, goatee and all.

"I guess the rumors are true then…beating subordinates must be so _easy_... when you control every aspect of their lives…" The Professor expected the next punch, and the one after that, as his arms covered his face. One glance at the 'Prophet of Arceus' told him all he needed to know. The man was enjoying beating on him a little too much. The look in his eye was almost manic.

* * *

"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you, _Professor_?" Pravus grabbed what little dyed red hair he had still, primarily on the back of his balding head, and forced their eyes to meet. "I had no problems ruining _your_ life…it was so easy to fake her death…on paper, at least. Ein was the one who had to get his hands bloody, weren't you my friend?"

The bespectacled man with dark hair and a hair flick that was entirely too long walked into the Professor's vision. "Caleb, we shouldn't be-" The man was silenced as the fist that had been holding the Professor's hair swung to strike the scientist across his face.

"You will **Address** me…as the Prophet! _Sir_ will also suffice…" Pravus was panting slightly, his face red from the exertion. It took the Professor a moment to realize that it wasn't exertion that had caused his heavy breathing, but pure, undiluted rage.

* * *

Gil wondered for a moment how a man with such issues managed to control a state as large as Fornia, which made up the majority of a coastline, with absolute authority. Then, he surmised, a cult was probably the way he would've gone about it as well. In this era, such groups were rare enough, but they always devolved into brutality behind their closed doors. During the Dark Times they'd been far more popular. Thankfully, the world had turned more peaceful, and rational. To a point.

Ein glared at his superior, and then adjusted his black, spiky glasses. They were several years out of style, and now had cracked lenses. "Sir…is it _wise_ to be telling him so much?"

Pravus turned back to the Professor, and smirked, "Oh Ein…fret not. This wrinkled sack of skin won't ever see daylight again. Put him in the Hole."

The Professor felt himself being lifted by two burly sets of hands, but after being struck and beaten, his vision was becoming unsteady. Fist fights and old age did not mix well.

* * *

The next thing he knew, he was waking up to the feeling of someone shaking him. He blinked his weary eyes open, then looked around. He was still clothed, and judging by his exhaustion, hadn't been out for too long.

He noticed then, that he was being shaken by a blonde boy, who couldn't have been older than Alex. "Hey mister," he said, sounding entirely like a twelve-year-old, "You should sleep in the day, when it's hot. It's better to be awake at night. That's the only time we get food."

Groggy as he was, it took the old man a minute to comprehend the boy's words. "Food? What?" He blinked again as several loaves of bread, covered in what looked like dumpster gruel, fell on top of them, and the forms of several other huddled humans nearby. He grabbed one, and sniffed. He'd tasted some harsh dumpster gruel in his time traveling the world, namely in Eous, but this was an entirely new level of foul.

* * *

He took the time then to figure out what exactly was going on. The boy, whose name was Bradley, said that they were in 'The Hole', and that it was where people went when they were bad. When he asked the boy what he'd done to get put in here, he said, "I…lost my Charmander…Uncle told the Prophet I lost it on purpose, and then he…then I was put in here."

The Professor gave the lad a shoulder pat, though he kept it brief, as he felt the child stiffen in fear at the contact. That was another aspect of this cult he didn't particularly enjoy. Members were required to report other members for violating the 'rules' of the Church. Not doing so got you put in here, or so he heard from his fellow prisoners, and he realized that was probably what had gotten him eight hours of meter time.

* * *

Night eventually gave way to the day, and the Professor chuckled. It was amazing how wrong Pravus could be. Judging by the hole's entrance, the sun would be visible for several hours a day, at least. By his third day in the pit, he'd figured out the guard rotations, and from then on, began to plan his escape.

He knew Soren was likely looking for him, and given that they'd been in worse prisons than this, he felt escape would be relatively simple. To the guards, he was just a sunbaked old man making hooting noises for hours on end, but he knew the hole's acoustics would likely be what helped his sharp-eared friend find him.

* * *

Eventually, of course, he did. Hypnotizing the guards was simple, it was helping his fellow prisoners that almost de-railed his plans. None of them would escape with him, each of them, Bradley included, said that they couldn't just abandon their families.

Leaving them behind was hard, but after ten minutes of arguing, he'd had enough. He had information to share, a story to tell, and a daughter to go home to. If these people refused to help themselves, he couldn't force them. Not with only one flying Pokémon. Soren flew him back up north, sticking to the treetops, and eventually, they were free. He patted his old feathered friend, and thanked him.

Once he was safe in his friend's Takoma hideout, he shared what he knew with his ally. He had a vested interest in bringing the Arcean Church down as well. They discovered that the old man did indeed have useful information, on not only Ein, but Pravus as well.

Gil had taken to walking around with a pocket recorder years ago, as he and his wife had won or lost arguments by recording previously spoken words. He'd kept hers for years without over-writing it…and in the moment he'd been caught, he'd turned it on more by reflex than anything else. He wouldn't let the loss of the last recording of her voice be in vain. He had proof, now all he needed was an exposé, and he knew just the man to do it.

* * *

"I'm sorry Gil, but I'm not the man to do this." John Crimson said as he poured yet another glass of what looked like scotch. They were in his penthouse apartment of the PNN building in Castelia, and the legendary reporter was bathing in his hot tub, a tray with his favorite meal floating before him, "The Arcean Church has been trying to buy this studio for years, and they're about to succeed. If I run this story, the entire network might go down after they sue us for every charge their lawyers can cook up."

"John, I have the man on tape admitting to covering up murder. That's as hard as evidence gets. It's like you, in Nimbasa's Red District." He'd made four copies of the tape when he'd returned home, and hid them in every safe spot he could think of. Paranoia was a blessing, sometimes.

John Crimson shrugged, "If it's that hard, bring it to the police. If Officer Jenny can't make it stick, no one can."

After several more minutes of arguing, the Professor eventually left the PNN building, and went to the police. Finally, after weeks of hardship, he felt progress was being made, as the officers at the station guaranteed him they could convict on evidence like that.

* * *

He went home then, and slept soundly for the first time in a month. He called a week later to check the status of the investigation, only to find that the officers at the station had no recollection of his visit, the evidence he'd presented, or the charges they'd discussed filing. The man on the other end of the phone was more interested in knowing if he had any additional copies of this evidence however, and the Professor disconnected the call before swearing loudly and colorfully in the privacy of his lab-adjacent room.

He went to every news station that would take his call then, resolved to give the story to a hungry young reporter, eager for a 'scoop'. After the Ryme City scandal, they'd popped up like weeds the world over. Before he could contact them, they came to him, asking questions about a fabrication that, by its design, he knew came straight from the nonsensical realm the rest of the Arcean Church's accusations manifested in. The Arceans had moved quickly to counter him. Pokésites had popped up, claiming that the esteemed Professor Redwood had recently taken a vacation to the Fornia region, infringed on the religious rights of the Church, and had returned home, drunk off his ass, trying to sell a fake story in order to get a scrap of fame.

Any idiot with a three-digit intelligence quotient would've been able to tell who was sponsoring the aforementioned sites dedicated to smearing him, but the press' interest was on his personal affairs, not the truth. Moreover, they'd taken a similar tactic to his own, and used his own recorded words about his 'crimes' to slander his name. His tone was clearly sarcastic, irritated, and exhausted, but the 'evidence' in his own voice was damning. Eventually, he resigned himself to the fact that he would never be in a position to take Pravus down.

* * *

He became even more withdrawn after that, his daughter met a man from Kanto, and moved overseas with him, desperate to get out of that lab basement and start her life. He never heard from her again.

Abandoned, slandered, and outfoxed, Gilroy resigned himself to his studies, but his efforts were fruitless. His sole comfort was his grandnephew, Alex, who alongside his uncle, Gilbert, often joined him in the Lab's basement for talks about life, and Leaf smoking sessions. Of Frederick's generation, Gilbert had turned out to be the least stuffy.

The Professor buried what evidence he had in his former bedroom, and took to sleeping on the couch. Eventually, he sealed the door entirely, utterly convinced that what was behind it would never be useful.

He often wondered why people had so easily believed the lies on the PokéNet, and the cynic in him said it was because most people were too thick to dig a little and find the truth. Eventually, he stopped caring altogether, and focused on trying to impart some kind of life wisdom onto his favored relatives, namely, the newest generation.

* * *

He'd tried telling Alex's father who the doctor responsible for 'testing' him really was, but as usual, Frederick took his word, and chucked it. Gil had discovered that Ein had been the one to test Alex, and not using psychological methods. They'd put him on a PokéMeter, and he knew all too well what had happened after that.

The boy had no doubt registered some degree of talent, enough to be a threat. Arcean procedure then instructed the meter reader to either indoctrinate the individual in question, or keep them from becoming a threat. Ein had deemed Alex too 'mentally unfit' to handle a Pokémon once the attempt to indoctrinate his parents failed, and thus Alex grew up without Pokémon. The only comfort he had was the love the Pokémon of the ranch showed him. He handled them better than anyone, and thus was often the one left to clean up after them. It took him all day, usually.

* * *

The Professor wanted to help him out, but knew that giving him a Pokémon would only result in eviction, and that would leave him without a supportive mentor of any kind. Something needed to change, before he risked that, and eventually, something did. New neighbors moved into the old mansion roughly a mile from their own plot of land, and the Professor watched the new arrivals with curiosity.

For once, Alex bonded with people over Pokémon, though he suspected they only kept coming around because there was literally nothing else for bored rich kids to do in town. Not long after the neighbors came, Frederick made a deal with the man of their house, an agreement to share the vast swathes of land that had been 'town property' for decades now, and far out of the Redwood's price range.

* * *

The number of ranch Pokémon increased, the Redwood family clawed back from bankruptcy, and by the time Alex left for University, they were once more sitting comfortably on a pile of golden currency.

Alex had changed as well, however. The Professor had noticed a hardened look in his eye one day, and from then on, it seemed obvious the lad had a goal. He'd spent his years on the ranch battling Tauros against Bouffalant or vice-versa, learning Pokémon moves, and squirreling away what allowance he received in order to buy items.

It didn't take a Professor to figure out he was going on a journey soon, and it wasn't until he asked for aid on a topic for a school paper that the old man got an idea. He recommended his grandnephew research the Arceans. They had helped contribute to his Pokéless existence, a fact he would realize, if he dug deep enough into the cult to learn of PokéMeters, and their purpose. He had a mind that, with maturity, had become as sharp as his brother's, and the Professor knew that he wouldn't stop at the surface of the rumors he'd no doubt find.

* * *

The Arceans hadn't become kinder in the years since his infiltration, and his hunch that they would eventually out themselves with their plans for world domination eventually became substantiated. He slowly realized, after watching his relative battle with a Turtwig against a Tyrantrum in his final exam, that this was a Trainer who could out the foul cult, perhaps permanently. All it took was a bit of strategic placement.

John Crimson agreed to help this time, and by pure coincidence, one of the Hands of the Prophet paid the PNN building a visit on the same day Alex Redwood gave an interview. In truth, the Professor had thought his plans foiled before they began once he disappeared on the dragon mountain, but when the video of his grandnephew's Charizard surfaced, he was more convinced than he'd been in decades. This was a chance for retribution.

Fate, it seemed, agreed with him, as it was Ghetsis' own pride that led to Reshiram's freedom, and all the wonderful things that followed.


	8. The Trainer Exam

**The Trainer Exam**

* * *

Gilroy Redwood was in another after-hour session with his grand-nephew, Alex. The boy was twelve now, and his brother Eric was ten. He'd also just gotten a Squirtle, while Alex remained Pokéless.

But, his Gruncle was telling him, there was a chance to earn one, perhaps, and convince his parents to let him keep it. Legally, they were the only ones who kept him from owning a Pokéball.

Every trainer, around the ages of five to ten, was tested for their aptitude in battles, and based on that, they would either be advised to become a trainer as soon as possible, in some cases sixteen, or be directed to find another path, one that didn't involve professional training. Given the culture of their world, almost everyone wanted to become a Trainer. There was an entire industry around professional battling, and if you were good, no job payed better.

If they passed, they, at the very least, received a Trainer ID, allowing them to travel to all the countries connected by the Pokémon League. Which was most of them. Even for non-trainers, knowing how to properly handle a Pokémon was a skill that governments the world over had agreed was necessary, to keep from falling back into chaos. Thus, the League had received funding to teach and train the world over.

* * *

Alex's mother and father had already left discreetly with his younger brother, who was already close with his Squirtle. Once again, they'd left their eldest son to his own path.

If the Professor did nothing, he knew the raw potential this kid had would be wasted forever, and that, would be truly shameful. Redwoods usually made seriously skilled Pokémon Rangers, but the Professor had a feeling Alex had a different path.

The only Ranger in this new generation of Redwoods that really had a chance to be a legend was Geralt, and he and his Dawn Form Lycanroc were already training for that, hard, at University. Those classes were even more intense than the Trainer ones.

The Dawn Form of Lycanroc was the Redwood's most recent claim to fame, as nobody had made one evolve at dawn before. The scientific world was buzzing, and already, trainers were trying to evolve their Rockruff at hours that nobody had yet tried.

* * *

Geralt's Lycanroc was referred to simply as 'the White Wolf'. It shared the Day Form's body type, but was pure white, and much, much larger. Geralt had gotten the Rockruff two years prior, when Gilroy had taught them how to catch Pokémon in the Redwood style. Thankfully, he'd had a ball on hand. Alex of course, had not.

Over the years, Pokémon Rangers had blended with the local police of any region with a League, and were often regarded as much, much stronger officers of the law. Typically, they had one to three partners in Pokéballs, and used their Capture Devices for gaining the aid of wild Pokémon. The most skilled Rangers didn't need such devices, and the Redwood line had a knack for producing incredibly skilled Rangers.

The Professor's own sister, Haley, had been one such Redwood, but she'd gone missing years ago in the Stoney Mountains, and by now, was presumed dead. Geralt had the same look in his eye that she had, and thus, the Professor had made every effort to ensure that he'd get the best training. Another familial loss to the life of a Ranger, and he doubted there would ever be another Redwood Ranger. Not from this branch, anyways.

* * *

Now, the old man was driving his young, conflicted relative down to the League's Headquarters in Unova proper, the as yet unfinished building that would someday, if the rumors were true, hold the World Tournament. They never saw Eric, or his parents, as they had left early.

The exams sometimes took weeks, months even, depending on when they were given. It was summer now, so the exam would be a longer one. Alex had seemed almost apprehensive about spending so long on his own, but his Gruncle assured him that doing so would prove he could easily handle this challenge.

* * *

Alex didn't want to disobey his parents still, but the Professor had no issues. He tried explaining to the lad that he would never have a better chance to demonstrate his potential, but the child still seemed to think this was breaking the rules. The Professor simply smirked. Once this kid had a Pokémon, and real battles, he'd be even more enamored.

True to his word, his Gruncle left him on his own, clad in too-large red and blue clothes. His red jacket made him stand out, his oversized red and blue Unova hat didn't fit right over his dark curls, and his blue shirt clashed too much, but onward he marched, alone, to the reception desk.

* * *

It was the first time he was 'processed', and eventually, an older gentleman with reddish oak brown hair gave him a choice. "Fire, Water, or Grass." The old man looked the kid over, and made a bet with himself that he'd pick fire.

Of the three Pokémon available, all this particular examiner had were 'the Kanto starters'. Alex stared at the Charmander for a long time, and the little fire lizard grinned, giving a thumbs up. He examined the other two then, and after several minutes, chose Bulbasaur, to the shock of the Professor, and the Charmander.

"Very well." The Professor said, locking his fingers. "For this challenge, you may use that Bulbasaur. Always remember however, he is the League's Pokémon. Try not to get too attached. He was chosen because he bonds well with multiple trainers. Don't make him dependent on one."

* * *

Alex grinned at the Bulbasaur. "Alright then, I'll call you Saur." The little green Pokémon extended a vine, and they shook. For his part, he liked what he sensed in this potential trainer. They would be a good team. He could feel it.

The Professor rolled his eyes. Another genius for nicknames in the making, this kid. The older man thumbed a button, opening a door at the back of the room that was acting as his lab for the moment.

"Your challenge is to follow the signs, battle the other trainers, and get as far along as you can in a two-week period. Good luck."

With that, Alex was shoved out the door as another child came in to choose their partner. Thankfully, there were always more Bulbasaur.

* * *

Alex looked down at his, and grinned. He'd chosen this one for two reasons. That Charmander, while intense, would never be his, and this Bulbasaur was clearly close to evolving. His brother had no doubt gone with his own Squirtle, as trainers were wont to do. Very few actually showed up with no Pokémon, or parents, but they all got the aid of another starting Pokémon.

"First, let's get you to evolve…" Alex said, grinning and looking around for Rattata. Five battles later, and the little Bulbasaur glowed, catching the interest of nearby trainers. Saur roared a loud challenge as he finished, smacking the ground with his new stronger vines, and the trainers around Alex decided to battle this newly evolved Pokémon. It would count as an easy victory, or so they thought. He didn't look all that intimidating.

* * *

Alex lost thrice to type advantage, but scored ten victories from water, electric, and normal type users. If you gained a record of negative five and held it until time was up, you failed the exam. The battling would continue until time ran out.

Thankfully, victories removed losses, and thus he now had a respectable record of seven. The higher his win count, the better off he'd be. Or so his Gruncle had said. Now, he'd need to follow the more serious trainers further into the wilderness to beat them.

In that first day, many trainers with entire teams of one Pokémon, and one starter, quickly realized how badly outmatched they were by people who knew their type advantages. Several had, supposedly, given up.

Alex was always a target for fire types, that is, until he found a wild Sandshrew, who desperately wanted to be a Sandslash, but had no trainer. Alex understood about 70% of what Pokémon said, and convinced the little ground type to come with them for a while.

* * *

The sand mouse grew exponentially once it learned Magnitude, and was able to drive off fire type threats to Saur. Together, the combination of grass and ground was quite powerful, and Alex found it extremely handy for this particular challenge. He often wished they were one Pokémon though.

After finally evolving and learning Sand Tomb, Sandslash stuck around, agreeing to help his new friends until their journey was over. Battling throughout the hills behind Iccirus Town was some of the most fun Alex had ever had.

He met tons of new trainers, saw new Pokémon, and learned very suddenly that he was indeed attracted to women. Given that many of the trainers here were alone, and usually on the cusp of puberty, the 'relationship drama' was everywhere.

* * *

By the end of a long seven days, Alex had a Venusaur, and a Sandslash. He was proud of both of them. Most of the trainers he met had managed to evolve their chosen starting partner once, not twice, and thus he soon realized his full-grown Venusaur often had an unfair advantage due to the sheer power of his Power Whip. In his younger forms, it had been formidable, but fully evolved there were few who could stand against the flurry of massive vines.

He didn't let that stop him from battling however, nor did he find an alternative and 'fair' grass type. If these trainers couldn't handle him, they didn't belong here. Besides, losing a battle was always a good learning experience. He'd had his own share of losses, even before this challenge, but that was usually because his partners would flee after taking too much damage.

* * *

Over time, trainers who'd picked similar starters and had similar attitudes formed groups, and naturally, the one Redwood found himself with was already experimenting with something called 'Leaf'. It was wonderful, and apparently, legal now.

Grass trainers were typically nothing if not responsible. Sure, their eyes were usually red, and they were a bit too laid back, but they always kept an eye on their friends, and respected nature. They made excellent Trainers. It was no different with Alex. For the first time in his life, he had a group of people looking out for him, not just his Gruncle. Being mostly older, these kids looked at him like a little brother, who towered over most of them, even at twelve.

During one of the many Leaf sessions they had, Alex began to piece together what he wanted, eventually, for his own team. He was addicted to battling now, and regarded as a proper trainer by everyone he went up against. It was a complete 180 from how he was usually treated, and he loved every second of it. The battles, the traveling, the new opponents, styles, moves, he could do this every day for the rest of his existence, and never tire of it.

Several of his classmates from the local school had also come to get their IDs. He took more pleasure than he should have when Saur thrashed them, but it was nice to get looks of respect, rather than pity or disdain for once. In a Pokémon world, not having your own made you an outcast, and a target.

* * *

Eventually, as the group of grass trainers began to head back after three more days of hard battle, Alex learned that his brother had been having a hard time of it, and was desperately battling weaker trainers to improve his record. It was expected though. His Squirtle was a baby, and its shell was still too weak for a test like this.

It was only Eric's borrowed Oshawott that kept him in the running for an ID, after evolving into a Dewott. Eventually however, his little Squirt grew as well. His shell hardened, he learned more attacks, and eventually, had become a Wartortle.

Smart trainers usually refused battling past their limit, but Eric hadn't kept an eye on his record, and had gone after the more skilled trainers far too early. Eventually, he managed to climb back in the positives. His losses would still be recorded, however, when the final tally came.

* * *

Alex's parents had, naturally, been furious when they returned home to find his chores unfinished, and their son gone. His Gruncle had told him to avoid the main entrance areas as often as possible, and he had.

It was as he was journeying around with his new group of chillaxed friends that destiny saw fit to make a fool of him. He'd been tracking a Poliwag for three hours, and had convinced it to come with his little group of friends, in return for making it stronger. He'd seen it was bullied, and after some hesitation, the little Pokémon agreed.

They stumbled upon their first fiery challenger, literally, as Alex finished his latest Leaf session with a borrowed bong, and not-so-subtly hid it in his oversized and filthy jacket. His friends had insisted he not return until he found a water type of his own to wash his clothes, and himself. He was becoming a man, they'd said, and odor was something he needed to learn to control. Surviving in the woods solo was also an important skill, but he'd had no problems finding berries.

* * *

Thus he was, naturally, filthy when he came upon arguably the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. The words 'terminally pretty' came to mind, though he had no idea what they really meant. His Gruncle used them to describe his wife, and Alex had thought she was quite pretty, judging by the pictures he'd seen. Nothing compared to this girl though, but then, age was likely a factor.

She suppressed a giggle as she saw him, and for the first time since the challenge began, he eyed himself. Torn clothes, a filthy jacket, pants that were now shorts because heat is bad, and splotches of dirt on his face and hat from battling, crawling, and sitting around in the woods enjoying some Leaf.

He hated being a mooch, but the others in his group insisted they didn't mind. It didn't take much to get the kid high, and he was amusing to watch. Grass type trainers always had spare Leaf.

* * *

"So, are we going to battle?" Alex had to blink his eyes away from her budding attributes as she spoke. She had to have been younger than he was, but her figure was already filling out. Being as-yet unfinished himself, it didn't really bother him. What she did have was appealing to senses he was not yet aware of. Her eyes snared him more than anything else. He couldn't look away.

Finally, he answered the smartly dressed redhead. "Y-yes. Yea. Battle. Right. Saaaauuuuur!" He shouted for his Venusaur, but as usual, the giant frog-like dinosaur was doing his own thing. A mound of dirt rose beside him, and his Sandslash appeared with a burst of dirt, raising its arms as it saw its friend.

The girl giggled again. "Well, at least that explains some of the dirt. But did you see a Stunky around here? Something smells…awful, really."

* * *

Alex waved her words away. "Never mind that. We have a battle to…start."

She raised a brow at the Sandslash. "With that? That's no starter…and you only have one ball…"

He shrugged, scratching his head, which he then realized desperately needed a haircut. "He's my partner for this challenge. We made a promise. I help him evolve, he helps me deal with fire types." His newest addition came waddling out of the bushes then, eyes red and bloodshot, a happy grin on its face. Alex pinched his brow. Poliwag's skin membrane was thin. She probably had a contact high from all the smoke.

The girl just giggled again. "Did…did you smoke up that Poliwag?"

* * *

He eyed her again, and as he met her gaze, he began to appreciate how they almost looked like a Snivy's eyes. They had that same cleverly superior look that fit her perfectly. He nodded, as he chuckled, and leaned down to pat the Poliwag. "She just agreed to join me, too. She was being bullied, so she wants to be stronger."

The girl raised a finely groomed brow at him. "You're going to battle her now? Like that?"

Alex grinned. "Don't worry, I know how to handle a Poliwag."

His brother had caught one of those, too. Alex had been responsible for taking care of it though. 'Helping his brother' his mother had called it. 'Proving he could handle his own Pokémon'. Lies, as usual, for the sole purpose of motivating him into doing what nobody else in their crowded house wanted to do. All that food had to go somewhere, and Poliwag droppings were notoriously loose and foul. Arceus forbid his precious brother ever actually clean up after his own bloody Pokemon.

* * *

The girl shrugged, and then called out a Snivy. She had two balls, but this didn't look like a League Pokémon. Having a new appreciation for grass types, Alex and his Poliwag walked up to it.

He looked up at the girl again, "This one's yours, isn't she."

She blinked once, and if she was impressed, it didn't show. "Yes. She is. How could you tell?"

Alex shrugged again, moving several feet away. His Poliwag pecked aimlessly at the ground. The Snivy didn't look impressed, but then, they never did. "She said so when Poli asked. And, she doesn't look like any of the Snivy I've battled out here."

"Oh, you've been out here for a while? I just arrived myself. Figured four days to battle was better than waiting for the next exam." She was eyeing him again, and he felt a chill up his spine. He stood a little straighter, for reasons he could not yet understand.

* * *

"Yea, it's a shame it's almost over. I could stay out here for months, but I'll have to go back eventually." He looked around for his Venusaur again, muttering. "Though I'd rather not…"

She continued staring at him, and only when his eyes returned to hers did she blink, and curtsy. It was a proper curtsy, though, formal. Practiced. Perfect. And just low enough to spy training bra straps. "I'm Jess. It's an honor to battle you…strange forest boy."

"Alex." He said, sliding his thumb sideways across his nose the way he'd seen others try it. "The names Alex." She burst into laughter again, and he blinked in confusion.

"Your face…oh wow, now it's so much worse!" She kept giggling.

Like the amateur he was, he'd emptied his borrowed slide with his thumb, and naturally, his hand now had a telling stink and charcoal smudges, that were now across his nose. He whistled at his Poliwag, and she jumped, looking at him.

"Get ready to battle, Poli. But first, Water Gun. Right here." He said, pointing to his face.

* * *

The little Pokémon blinked and hesitated, and he chuckled, leaning close to pat her. "It's alright, I can take it." Reassured, the little Pokémon inhaled, and Alex suddenly realized just how close he was now. He just sighed, and dug into the ground as the hard pressure of the attack pushed against his face. At least the dirt would be gone.

He was soaked now, and he knew he'd be miserable in the heat anyways, so he said, "Might as well get the rest of the dirt." The little Poliwag obliged him, and he grimaced as he was thoroughly soaked through. Thankfully, his small stash in his shoe remained unharmed by the water.

Once he was through, and dripping, he nodded at the girl. There was no recovering from that blunder with his thumb, and he made a note to get his own pre-battle…thing. "Alright then. Ladies first."

* * *

She beat him in that first battle, as Snivy's Vine Whip was quite strong, and super effective. His Sandslash was similarly beaten, though he'd done a lot more with dig. By the time the frustrated Snivy finally hit him, his Venusaur had lumbered back, eyeing the small grass snake and then roaring a challenge, as it saw its friend.

"Holy Heracross…that thing's enormous!" It took Alex more willpower than it should have for him to not immediately say, by pure reflex, 'that's what she said'. His new friends might've been responsible, but they were still very much children. And he was very much impressionable.

Alex just shrugged. "We can stop, if you want. Most people can't handle Saur. We'll call it a win for you. My record can take one loss."

She responded by ordering a Slam attack with her Snivy, which Saur smacked away with a Power Whip. Both trainers winced as the little Snivy went flying backwards towards her trainer.

* * *

"Sorry…" Alex said, grimacing. "He's…a lot stronger apparently. Saur gave an affirmative roar, looking proud. His trainer sighed, and gave him a pat. "A bit gentler, bud." The large beast grumbled, but acquiesced with a nod.

Her next partner was a Fennekin which, by his estimation, was about to evolve. Evolve she did, after dodging several Razor Leaves, and the new Braixen launched annoyingly powerful Ember attacks until Saur finally brought it down with a combination of Sleep Powder and Solar Beam. It was how Alex won most of his battles, if he was honest.

He was helping Jess find Oran berries for the lot of them once the battle ended, when another trainer stumbled upon them. "Making friends are we, sister?"

* * *

Alex looked up, and saw a boy around his age, clad in blue, with reddish brown hair and a build similar to his own. His arms were crossed and he eyed the two with disapproval. He knew how most guys viewed girls like his sister who had classic good looks, even as young as they were, it was never too early for some people.

"Why yes, brother. Alex here was helping me revive everyone. We just battled." She spoke, but Alex raised a brow as he noticed she was speaking to the ground, not him.

"And?" He said, expectantly.

"I lost." She said, finally looking up. "But his Venusaur is incred-" That was all her brother needed, apparently. He walked over to Alex, ignoring her, and grabbed the hood of his too-large jacket, lifting him onto his feet.

* * *

Or rather, he tried to. Alex yanked his damp hood free, and rose several inches over him as he stood slowly, and met the stranger's gaze. They both knew then, it was on.

"Alex, was it?" They boy said, eyeing him over again, "Only one ball hmm? Fine, one on two should suffice."

"Fine." Alex had seen many rivalries in the long weeks he'd spent out here, but he'd never quite understood them. They made people act stupid, mean, even. He understood a little better, now. This kid was a fellow trainer, a good one. He had the talent. That too, he had learned to see in his opponents.

Some people had it, and some people didn't. There was more to it though. He had a sudden and inexplicable urge to beat this trainer that his other opponents simply hadn't brought out. The fact that there was a gorgeous redhead watching had no bearing on the situation. None at all.

* * *

"Samuro!" His opponent shouted once, and a Dewott appeared from one of the balls on his belt. Saur came out then in response, needing no summons. Sandslash and Poli were still eating. Saur was fully recharged, however. He'd found his own stash of Sitrus berries, and had eaten his fill.

"Hmph. I guess your Venusaur _is_ kind of impressive…but it won't be enough." The Dewott pulled out its scalchops, and they blazed to life with blades of water.

"You'll need more than Razor Shell for us." Alex said, as Saur thumped the ground with his own pair of thick vines. They'd overpowered Razor Shell before. Oshawott, Snivy, and Tepig were, of course, some of their most common opponents. This _was_ Unova after all.

* * *

While it was true that no Dewott had the same fighting style, Alex had never seen one like this. His opponent snapped his fingers, and the otter Pokémon had used Ice Beam on his swords, turning them into ice swords. The advantage was suddenly his. "I think we can handle your vines."

Alex grimaced. "That can't be legal…"

His opponent grinned. "Oh, but it is. Creative move combinations are encouraged in the Pokémon League."

Alex thought for a moment, eyeing his Venusaur, and then nodded. "Fine. Use your ice swords. It won't matter. Razor Leaf!" Saur wasted no time in unleashing a hail of sharp leaves towards the water type, but its movements were perfect, graceful, and with each slash of its swords, any leaf that had a chance of hitting was cut in two.

* * *

"Razor Shell." The boy had his arms crossed now, as if victory was assured, and his grin only drove Alex to want to win that much more.

"Sleep Powder! Spread it all around you!" Saur's large tree launched the spores, and they filled the air immediately around him. Since they were his, Saur was, of course, immune to them. The charging Dewott paused, and leapt back. His swords were useless if they couldn't reach.

"Ice Beam." His trainer said, and the otter nodded, still holding his Scalchops, as he shot the beam from his mouth.

"Razor Leaf!" Saur obeyed, and the beam cut a thin swathe through the flurry of sharp leaves. Both of them took hits, and Saur struggled to stay conscious. The Dewott, however, fell asleep. Alex smirked. The flurry of leaves had flown through the dust, and guided it towards his opponent. Two could play the combination game. "It worked…alright bud, Solar Beam!"

* * *

Swearing, the boy recalled his Dewott, and brought out a Monferno with crimson fur, rather than orange. "Flame Wheel!"

Saur launched his charged attack as the fire monkey enveloped itself in flames. Being a primarily grass attack, albeit a powerful one, the damage was minimized. "Return." Alex said, pointing Saur's ball at him.

The Venusaur eyed him as he was recalled, and his opponent raised a brow. "What, are you going to fight my Pokémon bare-handed?" Jess interrupted this time, saying, "I tried to tell you, Connor. He has three. The other two aren't in balls though."

The boy glared at his sister, and then noticed Poli had waddled onto the field. She'd eaten her fill of berries, and was once more ready to battle. His Monferno laughed, and his trainer met his opponent's gaze. "Seriously? That Poliwag is weak. Tell it not to fight. I don't want to hurt it."

* * *

Poli responded by shooting a Water Gun directly into the face of the Monferno. Alex smirked. "Seems she understood you. Do I need to translate what she said with the water gun, or can you and your monkey figure it out?"

Connor's Monferno was looking down now, dripping with water, and Connor sighed. "Fine. Battle if you want, but I won't be held responsible when it gets hurt. Ardor. Attack."

The Monferno launched forward with sudden and startling speed. A Mach Punch sent Poli flying, but it seemed the fire monkey wasn't done. The punches kept coming, and Alex realized that the Pokémon was enraged. Its tail flame had swelled considerably.

* * *

"Double Slap the ground!" Before the next punch landed, Poli leapt into the air. The furious Monferno looked up then, and its fists became encased in flames. Mach Punch was about as strong as Scratch or Ember, but Fire Punch was a whole other story.

What was more worrying to Alex was the fighting style the monkey had used. It looked all too similar to the Iron Fist style, used by the Sinnoh Champion's own Infernape. "Now, Bubble Beam!"

A flurry of bubbles shot towards the monkey, and instead of reverting to its Mach Punch, it hit them with Fire Punch. It was certainly fast, but fire did little to stop the damaging water attack. Poli kept the bubbles coming as she descended, and the Monferno was rapidly overwhelmed.

* * *

"Blaze Kick!" Connor had uncrossed his arms now, and once more attempted to help his partner. Usually, Ardor would rage, and only recalling him to his ball could stop him. He hadn't expected the Poliwag to be so strong.

As Ardor's feet were encased in flames this time, Poli was glowing with an entirely different kind of energy, and her form twisted and shifted as she evolved. Facing down a newly evolved Poliwhirl didn't cause Ardor to pause however.

"Mud Shot!" Alex gave the command as the Blaze Kick brought the Monferno close, and then point blank, the two moves collided. Ardor went down, fainting, but the newly revitalized Poliwhirl came through with some damage, but looked more than ready to keep fighting. Evolving mid-battle always brought a Pokemon's health back up. It was what made it so useful, but it could only be done once or twice.

* * *

Keep fighting she did, against the sleeping Samuro. In the spirit of fairness, Alex had her use Double Slap until he'd awoken, but his icy scalchops gave him the win. Which only left Saur.

With an order of Power Whip, Saur claimed victory. It was stronger than Vine Whip, and was impossible to block, even with two ice blades. Saur had plenty of vines, and they regrew as fast as he needed them to.

Connor had left once the battle ended, dragging his sister with him. She managed a wave as they disappeared into the trees, and Alex had returned it, still somewhat impressed he'd managed to win. If the top trainers were all that strong, he'd need to re-think combining moves. It opened up a whole new dimension to battling he hadn't even been aware of.

* * *

Eventually, the PA system throughout the examination area announced the challenge was almost over. It was the middle of summer though, and Alex was half tempted not to return, to run into the wilderness with his new partners, and never go back. He could survive out here, with their help.

Saur had convinced him otherwise however, as had the other Pokémon they'd gathered into their little team. He bid Poli and his Sandslash a fond farewell, and while the Poliwhirl had left, after sharing a hug, his Sandslash stuck around. He said he wanted to make sure his friends were safe before he went home. Alex had never wanted a Pokéball so badly. The loyalty was inspiring.

When Alex finally split from his group and arrived at the station of the man who'd lent him Saur, he smirked as he saw the man gape at the massive Pokémon the child had managed to train up. "This kid…" he said softly, eyeing him over as he reluctantly shook the Venusaur's vine in a final farewell.

* * *

He came over to the Professor's desk then, and the man examined the V.S. Recorder each trainer-hopeful had been given. He had to blink at the numbers. "I take it you battled several people more than once…"

Alex shrugged. "Sometimes. I moved around a lot though, and stayed by the edge of the forest near here. Secluded enough for privacy, close enough to find trainers looking to battle." He was less dirty now, and smelled like air freshener, rather than a Stunky.

The Professor had enough sense to guess which group the grass type user had fallen in with, but he kept his opinions to himself. "I have to admit, I'm impressed. Well done, lad. I'll print up your I.D."

Alex kept glancing at Saur's ball as the Professor readied his Trainer Card, but unlike 90% of the young'uns who came through, the boy did not ask to keep him.

* * *

Most of the time, the Professors acquiesced, as after two weeks of hard battle, and usually evolution, the bonds were too strong to break. He'd seen the Venusaur too, but it seemed their bond, while strong, had remained somewhat distant.

Despite himself, the Professor said, "Do you want to keep him?" He glanced at the boy, hiding a smirk, which quickly faded as he saw tears dripping from under the down-turned hat.

"I c-cant. I can't. I'd like to…but I…I'm not allowed." Parting was hard enough, as Alex was realizing that the most fun he'd had in his short life was now ending. Being asked to keep Saur had pushed him past his considerable threshold for tears.

* * *

He looked up, and saw the Professor offering the ball to him. It shook in his palm, and Alex knew all he had to do was reach out and take it. His hand paused before it however. "If I did take him…I don't know what my parents would do with him. I know I wouldn't be able to keep him. Please…make sure he's happy."

He gave the ball a lingering glance after he had his I.D. with his recorded wins and losses on the back. Thirty-eight losses, a hundred and twelve wins. It wasn't the best record that year, but it was enough to be in the top percentile. Usually, it was the trainers who managed to evolve their partners completely that had records like that. There were only a few of those, but they promised to be talented Trainers. He left then, hurriedly, and wiped his eyes.

Outside, he saw his parents, and his Gruncle, waiting for him. His father was furious, though he hid it well, and his mother gained an obvious and severe look as she saw the state of his clothes. As planned, he slipped the I.D. to his Gruncle, who moved behind him as he faced his parents, head down.

He told them his record, but said that the I.D. would come in the mail. His father promised to destroy it when it did. This 'act of defiance' only proved, in his mind, that his son was not Trainer material.

* * *

They waited for Eric then, in awkward silence. More than a few parents nearby had overheard them, and once more, the looks of pained sympathy came his way. Once more, he was the Pokéless outcast everyone pitied, or mocked. Nothing had changed.

Eric got the reception most of the other children had. Praise, hugs, and congratulations on his I.D. His record had been almost split. Sixty-five losses, eighty-five wins. By the rankings, his record was barely average. Only twenty countable victories was less than impressive, but more than enough for an I.D.

If his parents found it strange that Eric had an I.D. while Alex did not, they didn't say so. If they noticed how much better his record was, they didn't admit to it. All he got on the ride home was stony silence, and reassuring pats from his Gruncle.

* * *

 **Four Years Later…**

* * *

Alexander Redwood never forgot about that summer, or Saur, but he knew that as long as he lived with his parents, he could never try to claim his Venusaur again. He'd gotten a letter from the League a few weeks later, from the Professor who had given him Saur, but as promised, his father had torn it apart. Thanks to science however, his Gruncle had managed to reconstruct the pieces, and the message itself, but not the name of the Professor who'd written it.

It didn't contain his I.D. but instead detailed what Saur was doing. Evidently, he'd become one of the League's breeders. Bulbasaur was among the most popular of the available grass types for new trainers, thanks to the popularity of Kanto's Indigo League, and the number of challengers who'd entered with a Venusaur.

* * *

Alex had decided to try to emulate his Pokémon, but first he needed to know what 'breeding' was. His granduncle had then revealed where children, and Pokémon eggs, actually came from. It was a monotonous explanation, complete with charts, diagrams, and a severe emphasis on how to copulate safely. He decided to wait a bit until trying any of what had been described. It all seemed _far_ too complicated.

That didn't stop him from eventually finding a girl, though. Not having a Pokémon made the sympathy card very powerful. Unfortunately, it also meant he couldn't compete against rivals who _did_ have Pokémon, and could battle quite well.

He'd found out from one of her friends that the number of times she'd cheated on him had grown to the double digits, and at that point, he decided to stop being her charity case, and swore off women altogether until he was wiser, older, and knew what he was doing.

* * *

It was only once he was sixteen that his life finally shifted, for the better. This was, in a large way, thanks to their family's newest neighbors, who'd rebuilt and renovated the old manor roughly a mile from their house.

His father had said it had once belonged to them, but they'd had to sell it, and much of their ranching land, during several years of turbulent economic trouble. It was just as well. It was more opulent, but had smaller rooms than their current abode, which was still crowded, even after they'd added a new basement.

Once more, fate decided to test him, but for once, he was actually able to handle it. It was yet another sweltering summer afternoon, and he was enjoying a bowl of Leaf upon a massive stump that had been on their land for ages, but had been too strong to move. He hadn't taken up smoking again until recently, and he was enjoying the effects at that moment. He was also putting off shoveling Tauros dung from the barn, when he noticed a flash of red coming across the land between their ranch, and the old estate roughly a mile away.

* * *

It almost seemed familiar, and had he not been reminiscing about his favorite summer, he might not have realized who it was. Or what she was walking into. It was still early summer, and they were barely out of spring, but this season promised to be a hot one, judging by the temperature.

What that meant, of course, was that mating season was still going on. The last few days were always the toughest, as the males were desperate if they hadn't found a mate by now, and desperation made even the calmest Tauros a frenzied hair-trigger mess.

He was tempted to wait until the fiery redhead approached, as he still didn't entirely believe it was the same girl. The odds were simply astronomical, and he was nowhere near that lucky. It was as he avoided looking at her, that he noticed the Tauros idling behind his granduncle's lab, along the edge of the fence.

* * *

Most people didn't know how to recognize an angry Tauros, as on this continent, they were usually rather calm. Except during mating season. More than a few Professors had even mistaken their love of running for 'rampaging'. They were strong, and tended to knock over whatever was in their didn't mean it was purposeful.

Most people didn't see the difference, but that very difference was the entire reason the Redwood's own manor, and barn, still stood undamaged. The Tauros were well aware there were children and young Pokémon within. The fence was, however, another story. This very season was the reason it always looked new.

He saw the three tails, whipping away as the young bull by the lab eyed a Miltank across the way. She was a bit small, and had been sick in the barn for a few days. Alex didn't need to see what was in the bull's way to know it was about to trample anything, if only to get to that female first. There were plenty of rival males in the herd.

* * *

He also knew that the gate was in its path. As would be anyone walking through it, and opening it. He had just enough time to set the bong down safely, before he heard the gate open. He was already moving by then though, and the sound had set the overeager bull off. They creaked terribly. It was why anyone who passed through it usually climbed, rather than opened it.

He glanced at the redheaded woman coming through, some sort of basket in hand, but didn't have time to register the shock of seeing her again. He took the stance his granduncle had shown him, one hand above, and one hand low, and dug into the ground, which was already shaking. "Leave the gate open…" was all he had time to say.

There was a trick to stopping a rampaging Tauros or Bouffalant. For the Bouffalant, you had to spin them down, into the dirt. Their balance was terrible, and their legs, while strong, tended to flail. Stopping them was a pain, as you had to immediately leap back, or risk being kicked.

* * *

Tauros were entirely different. As long as their hooves had ground to pound, they'd keep running, until they either reached whatever their goal was, or ran out of stamina. Thus, the key to stopping them was a bit different, and required precise timing.

What was more, was every Tauros had their own style of charging. He hadn't memorized them all, to do so would be impossible, given the size of the herd. This is why he'd befriended the older bulls, who mostly kept everyone else in line. They knew their schedule as well as their handlers.

While it was usually only necessary for one Redwood to play farmer, which meant mucking out the barn, the role was split between Alex, and his cousin, George. Out of all of their generation, George had the most farming potential. He loved it. It was as obvious as his own desire to become a Trainer. He knew by now, this ruckus had likely gotten his fellow farmhand's attention, but he'd be too far away to help. Their cousin Rose had been milking and cleaning on the far end of the ranch. He was on his own.

* * *

He waited, watching as the bull came closer. Sometimes, bulls this young would stop, or turn, if one of their handlers got in their way. But this was mating season, and the pheromones were strong. His eyes were pure rage. All that energy had to go somewhere.

Instead of waving his horns about, the bull lowered them, and Alex's hands moved by instinct, ready to catch them. This was actually the easiest way to catch a charging Tauros. It was still going to hurt, regardless.

He didn't have his gloves either, as they were too bulky to smoke with, and too far away to grab. His bare hands met the unblemished horns, and he let the bull push him as he dropped to one knee.

* * *

Suddenly finding this obstacle hard to move, the bull's feet kicked out uselessly behind him, which was when Alex pushed up with everything he had. There was a brief moment when the sharp hooves flashed by his face as the front pair left the ground, but it passed as he forced their momentum to his left, and slammed the bull down onto the ground.

Furious, the bull struggled for several moments as Alex held him down, but eventually, the haze left his eyes. Once it did, he got up, and Alex directed the still-eager beast around himself, and their guest. He didn't seem to even care that he'd just been bested by a human. His mind was on a single track.

Alex looked at his hands, panting, and sighed in relief. They hadn't torn open, thankfully. He'd been lucky for once on all counts. Had that bull been a full adult, he would never have been able to hold it down, and its rage would've focused on him. He ignored the sounds of furious cow-copulation as he turned to Jess, chuckling.

* * *

"One day, I'm going to run into you when I'm not covered in dirt." He shook his head, still chuckling, and trembling slightly as the adrenaline faded. Then, he noticed. She was pale as a ghost. He snapped his fingers in front of her face a few times, and she blinked back to reality.

"I-I don't…I'm so sorry…I didn't…are you okay!? How did…oh my gosh, are they…wow. I guess it's mating season." Her gaze had slowly shifted from him, to the bull that had almost trampled them, and then back to him. She'd gone from white to crimson rather easily.

"It is, actually. We should really have a sign up…but we've never had visitors during. Nobody comes around here usually. Not from the back, anyways. Do you need something?" He eyed her over, and like any sixteen-year-old in the spring, his thoughts shifted. The still very loud, very eager pair a few yards away didn't exactly help either.

* * *

She blinked for a moment, then nodded. Her own adrenaline from the sudden fear had been much more potent, and the smirking, dirt covered farm boy wasn't exactly hard to look at. And, he'd likely just saved her life. She was a whirlwind of emotion right then. She held out the case of snacks she'd brought, a plastic box that had a handle for carrying, and averted her gaze. "Right, yes, I came to say hi to our new…neighbors…wait a minute…do I know you?"

Whatever confidence he'd had that might've helped him in a no doubt sad attempt at flirtation faded in the face of a total lack of recognition. Though, granted, she probably met plenty of men with curly dark brown hair and blue eyes. It wasn't exactly uncommon in Unova.

* * *

"Yes, actually. Alex. From the Trainer I.D. exam. We battled. Then I battled your brother, who seemed to think I was hitting on you for some reason." She nodded slowly, and the silence grew into awkward territory as the sounds of copulation continued with the vigor of youth and springtime, so his mouth started moving again. "Not that I wouldn't, I mean, yea, but I wasn't then. Or now. Not that I don't want to. I mean. I'm rambling. Thank you for the gift." He turned facing his reddening face towards the house. "I'm sure we have something as well. I'll go check. Wait by the lab. The Tauros won't bug you there."

He walked quickly then, ran into the house, set the box down, and then went straight to the large pantry that stored their leftovers. Sure enough, there was one foodstuff marked for the new neighbors. It was his aunt Lisa's handwriting that marked it. No surprise, as she usually cooked.

He was about to go back out, when he realized he was still dirty. By the time he'd cleaned up and gotten his hat, he returned outside to find the lovely redhead on his stump, with a full bowl, sitting next to his brother. He hadn't even known he was around today. He usually trained at the local pool with his Blastoise and other water trainers.

* * *

The fact that she seemingly knew her way around Leaf smoking only confirmed his suspicions that she was, indeed, ideal girlfriend material. He also knew that without a Pokémon, he had no chance in Helheim of keeping her. Based on his prior experience, he assumed all women were so easily enticed into cheating. Based on her looks, he knew he wouldn't have a ghost of a chance without a team of his own. She might as well have been a princess, and one couldn't get more peasant-like than Tauros ranching.

That, was when the first parts of a plan began forming in his mind. A plan to finally stop shoveling dung for no pay. A plan to have a team of Pokémon for battling, not ranching. A plan that would, ideally, attract her, or a woman like her he actually had a chance with.

He enjoyed the rest of the Leaf that day, and then soon ran into her brother the next day, when they both stopped by in the middle of his repairing the fence. He'd already chopped everything in preparation, and all that was left was using Mjolnir, his nicknamed carpenter's hammer, to slam everything into place.

* * *

Slowly, he became more Connor's friend than hers, only because she had, naturally, become popular in their school after a few days, and gained her own friends of her own gender. The degrees of social separation only increased. Connor had taken pity on him, like so many others, but instead of keeping his distance, he'd openly befriended the outcast. Having a unique Monferno had helped his own reputation, as had his obvious wealth, but that never stopped him from hanging with Alex next door.

Nobody doubted his skill either, as his trainer card still had his victories marked. He'd suggested Alex show his own off, but that presented a slight problem. Roughly two years after getting his I.D. the League had sent an official to reclaim it.

The reason given had been an anonymous 'tip' that Alex had boosted his Venusaur's level with Rare Candies during the test. His granduncle had, like any scientist, demanded evidence, proof, but all he was told was that his younger relative had been seen sneaking about suspiciously into bushes for much of the test.

* * *

In reality, it had been to hide his enjoyment of the Leaf. On camera, it gave the 'tip' credence that the League couldn't ignore. A full-scale investigation would be needed to verify the claim, but in the meantime, his I.D. was to be removed.

Eventually, the League had acquiesced when the aging Professor Redwood had claimed they could pry his card from his 'cold, stiff corpse' before he gave it over willingly. As a compromise, his record had been stricken from the card, and the investigation, they learned, would take several years to be completed. Such was the joy of having a bureaucracy in charge of such matters.

They hadn't accounted for the paperwork either. Much of it had, because he was underage, still required a parent's signature. As usual, Frederick Redwood had stood in his son's way, claiming that he'd 'known' the record had been tainted, and that this was yet more 'proof' he couldn't handle his own Pokémon. It had taken two straight hours of calming down, and several bowls of Leaf, before Alex agreed to not running off with a stolen Pokéball, and the first Pokémon he could find. He had been fully ready to wander off into the woods and never return, but that too, his Gruncle knew, would be a waste.

* * *

Losing his record and his first relationship in such a deceitful manner almost at the same time had made him come uncomfortably close to ending it all, rather than persevering through the shit he endured from his parents day after day. He'd gone to the only source of comfort he had, and his granduncle had handed him a vial of pills capable of doing the deed quickly and painlessly.

He was of the opinion that if someone no longer wanted to live, they shouldn't have to. But, he'd continued, Alex would have to make that choice right there, right then. He'd chosen to continue on. His Gruncle had promised that things would eventually improve, and that was mostly what had gotten him by thus far.

Connor and Jess had helped him get to eighteen, at which point, he finally was able to step onto the path he'd been itching to tread since he was four. It all began by trading farm labor for University studies, and the rest, as they say, is history.


	9. The Once and Future King

**The Once and Future King**

* * *

 **Forests North of the Pledge Grove - Unova Region**

* * *

She ran as fast as she could, the edge of her 'dress' whipping in the wind. The little Ralts in her arms wailed at the sudden harsh movements, and she calmed him with her mind. "Hush little one…hush…you're okay…" He'd only hatched a month ago, in the safety of the Pledge Grove. It had been a wonderful month, the best one in years, since fleeing her home in the small kingdom of Albion, just north of Galar. Since abandoning the throne to that _witch_. Since the new Queen's relentless pack of Trainers and Pokémon had murdered her mate, and forced her into hiding.

Like most baby Ralts, her son had learned to Teleport almost immediately, which was what had caused this current chain of events. There were only so many Ralts in Unova, and those that hunted them, had sensed him as soon as he'd left the grove. A chilling howl filled the air, a howl that still haunted her dreams. Dark circles had formed under her blue eyes, the only thing that marked her lineage as different from the rest of her species. She knew that howl. The Houndoom had her scent. She would never escape.

"Cobalion!" She shouted again, through her telepathy. The Pokémon with the will of Steel did not appear, however. Out of all of those she had fled to, seeking asylum, the Swords of Justice had been the only ones to take her in, despite the risk. They had been royal guards of Albion, once, even though their origins were in Kalos. Treachery had turned her mate against them, and led to their own banishment here, in Unova, but that hadn't stopped them from being heroes. If she somehow managed to go home, she intended to exonerate them. Not that it was very likely now. None escaped a Houndoom.

* * *

Despite what she'd done to them, what her mate had labeled them as, they had still taken her in. They were, truly, the noblest of Pokémon. She still could not believe how easily they had all been fooled. But none of that mattered, now. The Houndoom had her scent. She was as good as dead. It would _never_ let her go.

She looked at the little Ralts in her arms, and teleported to the Pledge Grove. She knew it would lead the hunters there, but she had to try and get help. There was no choice but to battle now. The Houndoom's howl echoed again in the distance, but this time, four figures appeared in front of her. She collapsed, panting. "Please…they're coming."

Cobalion looked at her, and nodded. "Keldeo." His mental baritone was impressive, and commanding. The youngest of the Swords looked up, already in his Resolute Form. "Take the young one north. To Humilau. The humans there are kind, and there are many places to hide. Wait for our return."

Keldeo looked ready to argue, but another howl echoed. This one was closer. "Go!" Cobalion growled, "If it gets the young one's scent, he too is doomed."

The Gardevoir looked at her son as Keldeo prepared to flee. She reached out to him, her mind enveloping his. She shared her memories as well, though she locked them deep. They would only surface when he was ready to see them. She hoped that someday, he would be the king his father had foreseen. The king Albion needed. "Go little one…be safe…I love you." The young Ralts was too upset and confused for words, so he settled for emotions. Love. Sadness. Reluctance to leave. It almost broke her noble composure. Almost.

* * *

Keldeo took the young Ralts onto his back, and jetted out of the grove with the water shooting from his hooves, over the trees, and began heading north. Minutes later, a growl filled the grove. "Down, Cerberus." A voice silenced the Houndoom. A human voice, belonging to a human woman. She was clad in red leather that was entirely too revealing. She matched the colors of her mega evolved Houndoom, but where he was more black, she was more crimson. They went well together. She grinned at the exhausted Gardevoir. "Igraine…at last."

The Gardevoir's eyes went wide. " _Circe_ …? I don't…but why?" She had never seen the Trainers behind the Houndoom that had followed her from her former home. She'd never imagined this, however. She knew Circe had a Pyroar and a pair of Lycanroc, but the Houndoom was new, and most likely borrowed judging by the name. If that was indeed the case, she'd had more enemies than she'd originally thought. Cerberus only ever hunted for _one_ master, though it had a bad habit of ending others who tried to take his name as well. It made more sense now. That witch had foreign aid from the Imperium. She was playing with fire, and she probably didn't even realize it. The Imperator was as devious as he was charismatic and charming.

Her eyes moved to her defenders, as they stood before her in a protective triangle wedge. "Now now…you shouldn't get inv- wait a minute…I _know_ you three…oh my Arceus…you found the Banished Knights! And they're actually protecting you! Oh, this is too much." The woman laughed for a good fifteen seconds. Terrakion snarled. The Houndoom eyed him most of all with a wary look, but he was only half paying attention. He could almost smell another Ralts line scent. Cerberus blinked, as he recognized the Gallade King he'd been ordered to kill. His scent was all over the three warriors in front of him. The Houndoom drooled. That fight had been truly enjoyable...and delicious.

The woman continued, "Do you know what they say about you three back in your 'homeland'? Do you know how the people of Arborstone _see_ you? Egg breakers, they call you. Honorless deceivers. And Cobalion…" she grinned at the blue Pokémon, "You they hate most of all…the renegade leader who returned to kill the king he once protected. Uther's death is on your horns."

* * *

"Lies!" Cobalion's telepathy filled the air around them.

"Truths. Although this _is_ Unova, so it could be Ideals." The woman said, grinning. "Morgana says it, and the beloved people you hoped would one day respect you again believe her, easily. It must be tiring. You do so much to save them, all of them, and yet only the Pokémon ever actually believe in you. Maybe that's why you spent so long protecting _them_ in this region, and not the humans."

"We defend all who need our help…humans have a tendency to be more of a hindrance. Your kin are not defenseless. Not in this region. Unovans are fierce warriors." This came from Virizion now, who had spent quite a while with the Trainer-turned-Champion, Hilda. Hilda still had her Pokéball, but did not mind if she stayed with her fellow Swords. It was the closest thing to a home any of them had had since leaving Albion.

* * *

"It doesn't really matter what Unovans are. Or what any of you do. You already know how this ends. Tonight, the false Queen dies." The Houndoom snarled, and Terrakion faced it down, shifting the wedge to take point position. The Houndoom drool paused, as Cerberus realized how outmatched he was. Normally, three on one would be no problem, but only his true master could bring the other heads out. One of the many reasons he hadn't wanted to be 'traded' temporarily to this woman who barely knew him.

"Your little puppy has to go through _me_ first." The large rock type lowered his head, but did not charge.

The woman frowned for a moment, and then pulled another ball from her hip. It was a deep purple with green highlights. "Natubratus…Forest's Curse!" The Trevenant she called out glared at the Houndoom for a moment, before doing as ordered. Terrakion charged, but the massive purple roots that were a part of the ghost tree's move stopped its charge before it even began. Circe grinned. "Now you're _all_ weak to my fire…" In this instance, the Trevenant had replaced Terrakion's rock typing with grass…for as long as its roots held, anyways.

The Houndoom leapt forward then, and bathed all of them in its' fire. The Swords cried out in pain as the unnaturally dark flames burned them, and the Gardevoir they were defending.

* * *

 **Just North of Humilau City - Unova Region**

* * *

Keldeo finally stopped running once he found a cave that lacked inhabitants. He'd gone the long way for sure, spending most of the trip running atop the water, a trick he'd learned once he'd mastered Sacred Sword, and made full use of his elemental typing. The little Ralts had hung on the entire trip, often asking for his mother. Keldeo did his best to calm the young one, but knew what the fate of his mother likely was.

He didn't know about the other Swords, but he did know that a Houndoom never gave up on its prey. Their Mega Form was even more brutal, and relentless. He'd heard legend of one Houndoom with three heads, Cerberus, who was the most relentless of all, but he seriously doubted that howl had been from the three headed beast. Cobalion and the others had been in worse scrapes, they could handle a Houndoom. And, they had Terrakion. No fire type stood a chance against him.

Days passed, as Keldeo scavenged the nearby forests for berries. Thankfully, it was summer, and the fruit was plentiful. Only Alola got more sun than the eastern coast of Unova this time of year.

* * *

The young Ralts grasped much of what had happened, mainly from sensing Keldeo's emotions. The conclusion he always reached, was that whatever had befallen his mother was _entirely_ his fault. She'd warned him not to Teleport blindly out of the grove, but he had done exactly that.

It had been fun, at first. He met all manner of Pokémon in the woods, and only reached out in fear to his mother when he heard her shouting for him, and the howl that shortly followed.

He often wandered the woods around the cave they now called home, on the northern shore of Unova, sad, lost, until one day, he ran into something he'd never seen before.

His mother had called them humans, and had spoken fondly of her own, back in the home-she-never-named. From what he could sense, this human in particular was kind, and what's more, was this human had a psychic type with her. He didn't recognize it, but it was red and yellow, and had a long stick that shot fire into the air.

* * *

He'd approached the Pokémon quietly, and realized suddenly that it was a male when he heard it speak to him. "I see you, little Ralts. You should not wander far from home. What would your mother think?"

The Delphox had thought that would scare the little Pokémon back into the woods and safety, but instead, it started crying. He blinked, glanced at his oblivious, sleeping human, and then moved quickly, shushing the little one, and then noticed how young it was. "Hush now, it's okay. Are you lost?"

The Ralts sniffled, and then shook his head. "My mother…gone…" He didn't have psychic-type speech down very well, but he'd learned a lot from Keldeo in the past few days.

The Delphox's eyes narrowed. "Was she caught? Did a human take her?"

The Ralts again shook his head, and fresh tears welled up from under his green hair. He couldn't explain with words, so instead, he reached out to the kind, strange Pokémon, and shared his memories. The Delphox sighed with sadness. A Houndoom. That explained much.

* * *

"I don't know where to go…lost." the Ralts managed, and he kept whimpering. The psychic fox examined the hatchling's memories, and nodded, slowly, in understanding. This infant was heir to a Kingdom, and, under the protection of Keldeo. Since this was Unova, the fox decided not to interfere in Sword business. Those who did had a habit of dying.

The Delphox looked around for what he assumed was Keldeo, but the Sword was thankfully nowhere to be found. He did however, know where the cave they were residing in was, so he guided the youngling back there. "I can help guide you lost one. But come, first show me your cave. We shouldn't stay out in the open. Not unless you want to be caught."

The Ralts didn't know what 'caught' meant, but he led the kind psychic type back to their cave anyways. Once there, the strange Pokémon began gathering sticks, plants, and other strange materials that it pulled from the depths of its fur. "Sit here, little one, and I shall give you guidance."

The Ralts tilted his head, feeling somewhat better being back in the cave, and munching on an Oran berry. "Guidance? Gratitude."

The Delphox smirked. He was saying emotions now. He'd forgotten how cute baby Ralts were. "Hush. Watch. I will discern the nature of your future…and from that, you can figure out where to go. Perhaps you'll even find your mother."

* * *

Thankfully, the little Ralts was too young to understand what skepticism felt like, and instead he sat, and did as the red and yellow Pokémon said.

The Delphox drew his wand then, and the circle of twigs lit up on the cave floor, incinerating the plants he'd put within it. Smoke filled the immediate area, and then, he summoned the power. "I see…you will become strong. A Gallade, like your father…a great warrior…with a weapon of serious _power_ …" He glanced at the Ralts, not quite believing what his third eye told him. Excalibur? Even Pokemon thought that only a legend. He continued on regardless. "You have many paths before you, but only one will lead to the answers you seek. If you wish to find your mother…go with the... turtle? Hmm."

Ralts tilted his head. "Turtle?" He smiled. "Turtle turtle turtle!" He liked that word.

The Delphox chuckled. "Yes…something turtle related will guide you towards your destiny…I can't tell if it's a Pokémon or not…but that doesn't matter. You will know the turtle when you see it, so trust your instinct, and go with it when you find it."

"How I find?" The Ralts asked, and the Delphox swatted him with his soft tail. The Ralts giggled, the concept of swatting in general was entirely unknown to him, thankfully. Thus, the grabbed the tail and snuggled it. "Soft. Gratitude!"

"You mean, 'How do I find it'." The Delphox managed through a hard laugh. "Let's see…it's near here…interesting…in three days, go north-west from this cave. You will find your turtle." He grinned at the Ralts, sensing his next question. "North-west is that direction." He pointed, and the Ralts nodded.

* * *

"Del! Where are you!?" The Delphox's ears perked up. His trainer was calling for him. He'd recognize her voice anywhere.

"I must go now." He said to the young Ralts. "Stay safe, listen to Keldeo, and do as I told you in three days. Which way is north-west?"

The young Ralts pointed, and the fox chuckled, and gave him a pat. "Good lad. Now, go rest. Perhaps we'll meet again in the future."

The little Ralts gave him a hug, and shared an emotion he couldn't name, so again he said "Gratitude..." It was sad though, tinged by the understanding that they were parting. He had bad experiences with parting.

Del smiled. Using Future Sight like that took a lot out of him, but in this case, he sensed it was worth it. He didn't quite know why, but he did know one thing. They would definitely meet again.


	10. The Arceans

**Foreword:** Some of you may be wondering why this is up again. The short answer is because it was basically notes written by my high self on the heels of inspiration, which of course, decided to strike while I was working. I tried reworking what was there, but I do ramble, so eventually, I decided to scrap the previous one, and make it into an actual story. Because I can. And because it's easier. Enjoy.

Now that's out of the way, I'm only going to say this once, and I'm going to say it bluntly. Leave your religious ties at the door. I drew on numerous real-life examples for this particular group. Some of you may recognize similarities to other groups, or your own.

It doesn't matter. This is a make-believe amalgamation of negative stereotypes in an organization that's gone as wrong as it could possibly go. It's not an attack on [insert real life religion here].

So don't take it as one.

* * *

 **The Arceans**

* * *

 _ **I do not see the point of this.**_

There was a chuckle. "That's because your omnipotence can't quite grasp mortality. Your perception of everything is fundamentally different from mine. This needs to work…it is Humanity's last, best chance for a comeback that will shake the foundations of the Universe." The human speaking, wearing little more than a plain white robe bound at the waist by a black belt at the moment, heard a sigh to his left.

The 'miniaturized' black and gold form of the true Alpha Pokémon moved towards the human to whom he was speaking. Even shrunken to roughly twenty feet high, Arceus still had to sit outside the human's much smaller, much simpler dwelling, and his unsettling red eye took up the entirety of the small, circular window as his calm, but undoubtedly masculine mental tone thundered in his skull.

 _ **You are sure? The future is always in motion. Even I cannot predict it with total accuracy…**_

The man smirked. "Yes, the Time Vortex does tend to…fluctuate…but that doesn't stop you from trying for the best possible timeline, not just for your creations, but for all life the Universal Spiral spawns. You don't understand what it means to Humanity, to finally know, with certainty, that 'god-like' entities exist. I'm just glad you're a good one. Your kind heart will Not be tainted by my successor. I won't let Humanity be responsible for tainting the Alpha."

Arceus' eye did the godly being's equivalent of a blink, namely, shrinking in size, and then expanding back to normal, just as rapidly as any eyelid. It glanced around the chamber then, and the sky outside brightened as the god found the interior amusing.

It was little more than a circular room, just large enough for everything the human within needed to do. Naturally, he'd kept the aesthetic as simple as black and white, and of course, placed his desk in the middle. There was no place he felt calmer, as it was a balanced room of energy that he had crafted, with this new psychic sight his bond to a god made manifest had granted him. Normal humans might've found casually chatting with such an entity intimidating, but here, he was at peace.

* * *

Moreover, he did not fear Arceus, as many had upon seeing their regional Guardians, who were rather often considered deities as well, bow to the Alpha and the human who Held his sphere, the orb humanity collectively knew as the Space-Time Orb. He glanced at it, as he paused in his work. It once more resembled stars in the night sky, surrounded by Arceus' symbol, but when inhabited by the Alpha, it turned gold, and the power of three incredibly strong 'deities' came together, and gave whoever held it the power to change reality as they saw fit, if they were worthy of it. It had, of course, been coveted by greedy humans throughout his life, but upon trying to use it, they had been Purged with pure light energy. Only one force could combat or realistically control the power of the Space-Time Orb, and that was yet locked away, forcibly keeping reality in some semblance of order.

He knew the time was coming for the orb to once again become separate, and with Arceus on the verge of sleeping to regain his power, as he had to after using so much just to stabilize and populate the Earth with Mew, then create, and in some cases Teleport in, Guardians to defend the hard-won balance of the planet. Without him, nobody would be left to reign in Palkia and Dialga, should they need it. Those Arceus had ordered to defend the planet were indeed mighty, but they were still entirely outclassed by beings who had existed since the creation of the universe as they knew it. Some, like the One Dragon, came close though, as they had already existed for quite a while before being assigned to a region, but when the Alpha gave an order, like guarding a specific region of a specific world, there was only one way they could be freed of their obligation.

* * *

He had made sure the League, at least, knew what to do if Time and Space should become unbalanced. The very machine he now worked on was a testament to how much aid he was giving them. With this machine, from the mind of the Creator, and put together by his human, the League would be able to search for another human with the potential to become the Holder of Arceus, and that one, he had foreseen, would lead humanity to the stars.

From there, his Future Sight, aided by the power of a Celebi, had split between two of the most likely outcomes. One, had indeed led to a reunification of their race, but over millennia, he had foreseen that his race would become something truly twisted, once mysticism and chaos took over. In that grim, dark future there was only one realistic outcome for them.

The other reality he had seen, the one he even now worked to try to secure, had seemed more…tolerant, at the very least.

His people would not become obsessed with the eradication of xenomorphs, and humanity might finally manage to leave the universe better than they found it. For once. What would happen after they reconnected with their estranged colonies was muddled by the wibbly-wobbles of the Time Vortex, and he'd known he'd gotten as much from Future Sight as he could. He knew that one would, eventually, come and that they would climb above all other challengers. He foresaw stadiums, and partnerships between humans and Pokémon that, while classified as combat, did not seem deadly, but more akin to sport. That, at least, had been something he successfully set into motion before his time ran out.

* * *

The finished machine was a marvel really, and he eyed it with genuine pride as he finished soldering the metallic cylinders to the central machine. The impressively thorough scanning devices, provided by one of the Melmetal helping his race rebuild and expand, would be responsible for quickly determining if the human it was scanning could handle wielding a god's power, without it corrupting them. He had made sure to program the device to easily map out the best path for said candidate, namely what training they would need, to reach the appropriate state of mind necessary to survive mental contact with a force of natural Yin made manifest.

With the newly christened Aura Meter complete, the human finally let out the hacking cough he'd been suppressing for the past few hours. A cold chill ran down his spine as he spied blood on his hand, and mouth. It was, he discovered, rather chilling to see one's own body failing before their eyes. He knew what was happening. He'd already lived over a century longer than he should have, but now the cells in his body were simply unable to replicate, which meant he had been, slowly, wasting away.

Light surrounded him, and he felt his homeostatic balance return, but he could sense it was brief. It got shorter every time, as more of his body succumbed to the limits of naturally formed life. "You need to stop that. Even you cannot stop nature's decay. Not now, at least. Had you gotten me in my twenties, I'd probably be fine. That's another thing, if whoever Holds you next is to achieve what must be achieved, they need to be functionally immortal. I would hope your power would be sufficient to keep things besides mortality from ending them prematurely. Do you think your Storm Crown will do the job?"

The Alpha Pokémon seemed to chuckle, and a Fletchling landed on the back tip of his head, drawn by the warm rumble, and increase of life energy. Said energy appeared to be too much, or from some perspectives, just enough. The tiny bird evolved, chirped its thanks, and then flew onward to do what life did best.

 _ **I have formed planets from naught but dust and heat, crafted entire species in the space of my mind, and set into motion a path of Balance for this reality that favors the Light, and the life it brings, despite the ever-encroaching Shadows. My little crown will be able to make one of your fellow humans, as you put it, functionally immortal. Barring atomization, of course.**_

* * *

The human sighed again, wishing not for the first time that he could remain in this gorgeous, ancient cradle of humanity just a bit longer. They had been busy dealing with taming his species' lust for power for most of his two centuries on the Earth. He had started as a boy, by taking down the Norstad region's 'Dark Tyrant', and every city they had managed to build.

They would rebuild eventually of course, but he had no way of knowing that the darkness of the north was not nearly done yet, and had managed to survive his Purge by hiding in the only thing Arceus would never willingly break.

They had left Norstad to fend for itself, though he had heard rumor of Guardians from Kalos heading there regardless, to try to heal the land. He couldn't blame them, as that was what they had been born to do. It was in their nature to heal, destroy, and maintain some semblance of balance in the local ecosystem.

* * *

After several years of stopping similar tyrants across the supercontinent, Arceus had doubted that humanity would ever overcome its inherent greed, for he claimed it went to their very core, and only once they moved past that would they become a force for good. His human had refused to give up however, claiming that what people who warred were really after wasn't really death so much as prestige, and being known as the strongest. There were, he had argued, other ways to curb greed, by making use of the creatures Arceus had placed to stabilize the ecosystem.

He'd met enough soldiers to know that, given the option, they would gladly avoid killing. Most of the time. Vengeance ran as hot in humanity's blood as it ever had, but what they were lacking was a method by which they could test their strength, and simultaneously curb their blood-lust. Even settling arguments could, in the world he envisioned, be handled by a battle between humans and their bonded partners. Nobody would die, and good feelings would persist. He wished to see such a world, for he'd grown up in one thrown into total chaos with the arrival and meddling of a manifested deity, and his own creations.

The first of the magical creatures had bonded with almost every 'old Earth species' that had survived humanity's poisoning of the world, and even a few who hadn't. The result had been chaotic, though overall positive. Arceus had given his creations the ability to choose whether they wished to aid humanity, or live in peace, and maintain the balance. Whether or not humanity would respect that choice remained to be seen.

* * *

They had gone to the continent that now played home to the Dragon Empire early on in their travels, and adopted the idea of pitched battles on a rough field with 'boundaries'. Going outside them didn't mean much though, as many of the dragons atop what the Unovans called Draconis Mons were able to fly. The human and Arceus had decided on this method of fair, honorable pitched combat that would serve as the default for the 'League of Battlers' they wanted to form.

The Guardian of the region, known commonly as the One Dragon, had traveled far and lived long in his life, bringing balance as only he could to many across the stars, though in more recent times he had taught humans in many regions, before eventually choosing the north western continent as the one he wished to guard. He had quelled the wars, and then taught what he had learned to the people who had patiently awaited his arrival. For all their importance, the land that would play home to the One Dragon had gone without a regional Guardian for quite a while, compared to other places across the globe. None had evidently wished to involve themselves with the squabbling kingdoms that kept trying to claim supremacy over everything.

The kingdoms in question had evidently sought to emulate governing structures of the past, as they often chose war as the method by which they gained territory. The Dragon had, upon finally arriving, ended the wars, and founded an empire, one of the first the human and his friendly deity visited, and even endorsed.

* * *

They had chosen the first of their 'Dragon Emperors' by placing whoever the One Dragon deemed worthy at the top of their power structure. Naturally, they had held 'battles' to decide who had the right to tame the One. They had even met the man who, eventually, had claimed that title. He was definitely a unique personality, with abilities not unlike the ones a bond to Arceus had granted.

They had traveled the world then, from west to east, ending in the Sinnoh region of Japan, where Arceus and his human had decided who would lead the now numerous local Leagues. They had sought out the five strongest Trainers of every region, and had them decide who among them was strong enough to be leader, though instead of killing each other, they were encouraged to accept the loss with humility, and endeavor to become better, while the victors were expected to give pointers, and otherwise be good sports about their victory.

* * *

The honorable nature of the League Battles spread like a fire through Japan, a series of islands which, by the might of Arceus himself, had avoided being swallowed by the shifting continental plates and rising oceans. For a reason he had never made clear to his human, he cemented their position on the continental plate with a power only the Alpha fully comprehended. It had seemed strange to his human, as he'd upended areas with similarly low populations without a thought with the Mediterra mountains, but he'd eventually given up trying to decipher the Creator's reasoning. Sometimes, especially when he was balancing planetary forces, it seemed that the Alpha barely even noticed the beings living upon what he was working on, and how they were being affected by his actions.

Ultimately, the Mediterra Mountains had proven to be a good thing for the humans who had either fled west or east. Some had stayed in the mountains, adapting their homes to them, and praising their ore-rich peaks as a gift from the Creator. This kind of devotion to the Alpha had even manifested healing abilities in several humans, who he had also invited to the League. They had declined however, choosing instead to find similar humans with similar powers across the globe, and unite them in a peaceful brotherhood of compassion, knowledge, and worship of the Alpha Pokémon, the black and gold being who saved the human race.

Slowly, the entirety of the Earth, and the nations that continued to flourish, grow, and trade in varying quantities of material goods, each adopted a League structure for their pitched combat, as the 'art of the Battle' had, as expected, caught on with great enthusiasm. The desire to see, and be, the strongest in the world had an odd effect, as it had actually united them all in good spirits, and fair competition. That kind of honorable combat appealed to many, who had often lived lives plagued by raiding barbarians, and their own 'magical creatures', but for every region that chose to join the League, there was one who defied them, for whatever reason, and used their partners to attack anyone who entered what they perceived as their territory.

* * *

Magical creatures, as they were commonly called, became fast friends with humans when crystalline spheres had been created, thanks in no small part to the Alpha's meddling and some accidental sharing of the basics of dimensional engineering with Unovans who were too clever for their own good. Said spheres were capable of safely, and comfortably, transporting a Battler's Pokémon with them as they toured the other Leagues of the world on journeys to prove that they were the strongest. Many such humans had, naturally, taken to pocketing the spheres, though he had seen a trend rising recently with using belts, or other objects to hold their spheres, and provide other uses as well, from holding up one's pants, to passing as a decent weapon for self-defense.

Over time, many humans of the revitalized kingdoms began to awaken their greed, and desired to grow in size and importance, and once more, despite their efforts at unity, humans all across the globe had begun to war with each other again. As popular as battles had become, there were always those who desired more, and their manifested greed, alongside the varied and primarily crystalline devices used to control the foreign god's creations, made the normally peaceful Pokémon into weapons of senseless war. A technique, discovered by one of the stronger Battlers they'd met, had become wide-spread across the Earth's supercontinent, and those with greed in their hearts and murder on their minds always had a tool on hand that could use the move that was, in those days, all but unmatched. The Hyper Beam.

Arceus had spent the last fifty years alone, quelling the kingdoms, mainly on the supercontinent of Eurafricasia, in what had been come to be known as the Judgement War. The culmination of which had been a unified, malevolent force dedicated to taking down Arceus, who claimed that the popular, and sometimes admittedly strange or perverted worship of the deity would only lead humanity to ruin once again. The pair of human and Alpha had tried to discourage the more grisly methods of human worship they'd come across, and had usually succeeded. It was hard to manipulate what a god desired when it was manifesting in front of you, and using a human mouthpiece that, often, people underestimated.

* * *

The Alpha's final Judgement, which marked the end of the Judgement War, had seen over seventy five percent of the enemy forces eradicated in a merciless hail of fireballs. The dead were in the millions the last he'd checked, but neither wanted to know the true number. It hadn't been a pleasant time for either of them. The Alpha had then ordered the survivors of the attack to return to their families, and they had swiftly agreed.

Stabilizing the supercontinent had taken quite a while for the human bonded to the god, but now, finally, after almost two hundred years of such hard travel and work, he had gathered the strongest Pokémon Battlers in the world to one place. To avoid another Judgement War, he had been more determined than ever to finalize the League's global infrastructure. They needed to survive the chaos and tumult that would no doubt come from his death. It was inevitable, and he'd known that as soon as they had learned his mortality was, at his age, inevitable.

Being something of a 'Prophet' to those who had flocked en mass to a cult structure based around goodness and blind worship of a higher power, the Church of Arceus, as they called themselves, had gone far in uniting the populace of varying regions. Though he'd heard several unsettling rumors about their conversion tactics, their results could not be ignored. Adherents numbered in the billions, and overall, the organization seemed to, finally, work as a structure to bring people and magical creatures together, under the Alpha, who loved them all.

* * *

The aged human finally stood, and the Aura Meter floated into the air beside him, lifted by a yellow psychic aura. The needle on the meter moved to the red as it sensed his potential through the canisters, and he smirked. This would work. He met Arceus' gaze, and the two nodded. Already, his body had begun to fail again, and the Alpha's own power, with that last Judgement, had spent almost all of what remained of his energy. His rest was imminent.

 ** _It is time._**

They traveled then, for the first time in years, keeping Arceus within the Space-Time Orb. It would begin the process of traveling back to his own dimension, but by doing that, Palkia and Dialga would once more bet set free. That wasn't too concerning though, as they were, from what he remembered, rather kind creatures, if fundamentally different.

The 'Prophet of Arceus' came out to the small village center. They were located on a massive plateau, raised well over a thousand feet into the air from the spot in the Gohara Desert where his long-lost people had once lived. They were Aura shielded from the intense wind that even then blew sand from below around them in a wild storm. Before a crowd of the strongest Battlers, and genuinely good people the Church had provided as representatives, alongside their current 'Bishop', he summoned forth the children from around the world he'd sensed the most latent psychic power within, and tested them on the Aura Meter before the eyes of the League's strongest, and their allies.

* * *

That was the only time the divine machine was ever used in the manner for which it had been made, and as expected, it singled out one of their candidates, and deemed the boy's psychic potential great. He would be the one to receive the Storm Crown, after proving himself worthy of it of course, through years of study and training, as his predecessor had. Hopefully, it would take effect before his mortal coil dug its claws into his cells. The Prophet spent three days teaching the child the basics of using his psychic powers, which had manifested on their own, when Arceus had touched his mind.

Someday, he had promised, he would use his new powers for good, and unite the world, but before all that could even begin, there was an important decision to make. Once more the Battlers had gathered, alongside the Church members, and awaited the Prophet's words. They were all aware of his imminent death, and knew not even the most powerful being humanity had ever encountered could forestall the inevitable chaos it would bring. Mortality was a sobering aspect of reality, and one that the Church would conveniently forget, within a few centuries when they started promising that devotion would equate to immortality.

* * *

The old man gave a nod to his contemporaries, and then chuckled at the green-eyed blonde child who had been selected for both sensed potential, and his young age. The Prophet summoned three of his partner's own offspring from the spheres in which they'd been resting. A Snover, a Magby, and a Spheal appeared before the boy, all of whom had been raised amongst their kin in the nearby Mediterra mountains.

The boy picked the Snover, and with that, the torch had finally been passed. He pressed a green capture sphere against the snowy grass type's head, and the bond was sealed with a flash of similarly colored light. With his successor on the start of his own path, the man who had tamed the Alpha felt more sure than ever that humanity would, finally, recover from the depths they'd fallen to.

He passed that very night, after addressing his followers a final time, and beseeching them to be the 'best of humanity' in the days to come. The Bishop had promised to do his best to guide the world as well as he could, as would any true follower of Arceus.

* * *

When the last breath of mortal life had left the man's aged body, and his essence shifted to ghost typed energy, his robes flared with golden light, and the Space-Time Orb rose from him. There was no question as to where this human's essence would spend eternity, and he ascended easily, riding the awesome power of the Alpha through the fabric of space and time, to the golden paradise that lay beyond. Those gathered did not need to guess who spoke as the orb pulsed with divine light, and they all immediately fell to both knees in awe as they felt the sheer power of the mind now brushing theirs.

 _ **Take me…to that one town…the one in…Sinnoh.**_

Despite the presence of divine light in the room, there were yet shadows, and from them, the Church's Bishop stepped forward. He was pale skinned, dark haired, but had kind eyes and too many wrinkles for a human yet in his prime. He too wore a simple robe, though his was finer than the Prophet's had been, going as far as having gold embroidery on the sleeves and chest in patterns that resembled Arceus' symbol. Compared to humanity's religious garb of the past, it was simple attire, though like his forebears, he bore the sign of his god proudly on his chest, as it dangled from his neck. The Alpha had no reason to distrust those who bore his very symbol.

Indeed, it was such people who had been so successful in uniting the humans when displays of power and words of wisdom failed to convince. Somehow, the allure of that classic cult structure could get through even the most stubborn of minds. Eventually, a member from each of the League-affiliated regions had been granted a position of authority within the Church, and it was from them a successor would be drawn, should the current Bishop perish.

* * *

They were true to their word, and bore the Space-Time Orb halfway across the planet, as the successor began training with his magical creature. They made their way to the town of Alamos, one of the favored places the Alpha had visited, when his Holder yet lived. The people gathered at the behest of the Churchmen who bore the sphere, and as they held it up before them, Arceus appeared.

He was gold and black, and bigger than when they'd last seen him. As his mind began to hibernate, the energy used to keep the Alpha Pokemon's true mass from obliterating the Earth by being this close was fading, rapidly. The orb was not done however. Two intersected circles, made of 'chains' of crystals that were black, and white in their center, surrounded the Space-Time Orb as it once more split in two with a blinding flash, and in the light of the Alpha, those within the separated Space and Time Orbs, which appeared as a diamond-like crystal and a lustrous sphere, once more awakened.

Arceus stared at the two of them, the originals, Palkia and Dialga, as they had been when the universe was young, revitalized by spending so long all but fused to Arceus. Free for the first time in over a century, the gods of Time and Space soared gracefully through the air, stretching each limb, and pausing only thousands of feet above the town, to admire the sheer beauty of the region.

Arceus had made it known to them early on that there was a difference between the creatures they'd all created at one point or another, who served and loved them on instinct, and those the universe had spawned through natural ordering and pure, random chance. The natural beauty, namely planets, always left them in awe, for as much as they knew the power of their Alpha, he had not created any of this, merely set it into motion with the act of creating manifestations of natural forces like Time, Space, and Gravity. While he'd spent most of his existence without meddling in the affairs of the life the chaos around him spewed forth, he had shifted the universe's course with an occasional guiding hoof more than once by contacting the sentient species, and generally, convincing them to calm down and stop killing each other.

* * *

The Bishop stepped forward then, and the trio glanced his way as Palkia and Dialga returned to the side of the Alpha. "Mighty Arceus, we wish you a good rest, but a swift one! Humanity will always need you, but until you are ready, we will wait with the patience your human taught us. We will spread his wisdom as far as we can, as he desired, and hopefully…the future you return to will be one as lovely as this very paradise!"

Arceus regarded the land as well, and nodded.

 _ **Let my…final command be thus…this garden…shall be for all to enjoy.**_

The townspeople cheered at the proclamation, and the local Baron, a red-haired man with a vast build and boisterous tone shouted, "By the will of the Alpha, it shall be so! Let us usher our Creator on to his rest with the song he likes best! The Song of Prayer!" He formally bowed to the Alpha then, who watched with both mild surprise, as he had not expected this timeline, and amusement, for he had genuinely enjoyed the grass-whistles the people here used to both sing to and direct their magical partners.

Each of them put such a leaf to their lips then, and the Alpha Pokémon's eyes drifted half shut as the music filled the summer air, and what functioned as lids for his eyes, only ever descending when he needed recuperation, covered the fierce red orbs.

 _ **Such a…lovely song…**_

He let it echo through his being, though in his core, he still wondered if he was right to be a part of any of it, given what he was. He left it for his future self to ponder as the inevitable sleep took him once more, and his conscious mind split from his cloned selves. Now, they were all on their own, and would act accordingly to keep this planet, and many others, safe from destruction.

* * *

The song continued to echo as a portal to a realm those who saw it were only able to define as 'pure golden beauty' opened above the Alpha's resting form with a power that shocked each of them. Arceus' form was surrounded by a shield of aura as he ascended to his higher realm, though as he was essentially on autopilot at that point, the sheer power from his departure left something of a rift in the center of the town's space-time fabric. He promptly entered his own dimension of light, which would, given enough time, revitalize himself, and his many clones. Though they were white in color, they bore his wisdom, his experiences, and would do well in defending the universe, alongside those he had created and tasked with that very job.

Dialga Roared, and the rift the godly being's departure had left was surrounded by a sphere of blue aura, and then promptly closed as Palkia Rended space itself to close around the rift, and keep anyone, or anything, from entering it. The Unown, who made up the fabric of what existed between dimensions, acted as a shield around the now isolated dimension, keeping it stable, and balanced for all of time. Barring any human meddling, it would likely never be an issue, and given that it had touched Arceus' realm of boundless light energy, the surrounding region somehow became even more beautiful as the years passed.

The two dragons left then, to their own dimensions, and once more began the search for the mortals who were Doomed to Tame them. The people of Alamos would tell the story of Arceus' departure for centuries, though even that would, eventually, fade away in the face of the chaos of what was to come.

* * *

In those early days however, things were promising. The League encouraged Battlers the world over to become as strong as they could, as young as they could, for there was always a disaster to prevent or trouble to settle.

With the death of Arceus' Prophet, naturally, many regions began to eschew the League entirely, some not even waiting until the man's body had entered rigor to do so. It was not a promising sign of things to come, and should have been a red flag for those who had been told to prevent any global-scale chaos or wars, at any cost. There was no deity around to resolve them now, just humans, for the Alpha's clones would only intervene should the planet, or their own safety, become endangered.

That did not keep the Guardians from meddling, though for many, the influence of the Legendary beings was usually positive for the people they interfaced with. Eventually, after the first Bishop died, the Church of Arceus splintered into several factions, and thus, began the Dark Times. The descent was slow, but everyone, whether human or magical creature, could feel the tension in the air. The crystal capture sphere technology, as with every other technology man had ever, and likely would ever create, was turned to the purpose of war.

* * *

In what would become Unova, the Dragon's teachings had endowed the Emperors, and a few Empresses, with long life, and 'supernatural powers'. Roughly three thousand years before the present era, the Dragon Empire was, finally, once again graced by a competent ruler. He brought the Empire to heel, and for the first time in ages, it seemed the continent would stay that way for more than a few human lifespans.

The birth of two strong heirs was celebrated, and as the Unovans heralded their doom with thunderous applause, a man in Kalos, who would also be King, was turning the awesome power of his own regional Guardians towards war as well. Though many would one day claim it was necessary, as it was that conflict, and its cataclysmic ending, that led humans and their partners to a form beyond regular evolution.

Galar, like many regions, was no stranger to war either. They had decimated the people who had risen from Norstad and sailed over the seas to attack, plunder, and pillage, but soon their ire was focused on Kalos. When the 'Chunnel' or Channel Tunnel that connected their regions flooded and needed repair, neither region offered to fix it, and tensions rose as both sides readied armies.

In the wars to come, it became a crude joke to the nobility of both regions, who would send their opponent a proposal to fix the the tunnel. The offer would, usually, presage a brutal attack. Unfortunately it also kept either side from gaining a proper advantage over the other, as they were always prepared, and their wars were doomed to last generations.

* * *

The supercontinent was a political shambles, as new cults born from the old Church of Arceus, as well as the Holder's own League, vied for territory, though only the League endeavored to not get drawn into war. This led to a decreased trust in the League as a political ally when they refused to offer military aid to those they claimed to be allied with, and across the massive continent, regions left in groups at a time, until only a few regions in Japan, along with Unova and several other 'western regions' were all that remained.

The man who was supposed to prevent the shattering of the Holder's vision, his own apprentice, had run afoul of a witch in the isolated northern region of Albion, just north of Galar's capital, and had gone mad with what she'd implanted within him. In the dark woods of the small kingdom, the Shadow yet lived, and through a series of host women, slowly spread its influence out of Albion's isolation, and onto the supercontinent.

Its influence was subtle, usually, and any Arceus made creature knew they had to fight, and utterly destroy such a thing should they encounter it. The instinct was ingrained in their very DNA, and was there for the express purpose of keeping Arceus' hard labor from being tainted by darkness. Shadow energy was the antithesis of everything the light represented, though the power it gave could not be denied.

* * *

That very power had broken those with good hearts who had, despite the turmoil, still tried to sue for peace between the warring cults under Arceus' banner. Seeing his own Successor rampaging through the very lands the Prophet had helped make livable had been demoralizing, and as the scent of blood filled the air, fire and smoke were not far behind. The Dark Times began in earnest, and those who yet remained true to the League's founding purpose withdrew, until humanity stabilized into some semblance of rationality.

But the man who eventually became known only as the Successor was not done. Both Arceus and his Holder had been aware of the human race's ongoing shift to more prominent psychic powers, and indeed the god had given the people of the lovely world the ability to, with training, master two of the elemental typings, not unlike his own creations. Though most humans, in the majority of those trained, could only gain a second, and were otherwise stuck as 'normal'.

* * *

They had left behind clear instructions on how to find, and then train humans with the potential for psychic mastery. Though other typings sometimes appeared as well, psychic seemed to be where the human race as a whole was headed. The Alpha and his human had never considered that their knowledge might be turned to the purpose of Shadow. The Successor trained his own cult of devotees in the art of psychic 'sorcery', namely by enhancing their power by taking in ever-more amounts of Shadow energy, and their reign of terror and blood made even the most bloodthirsty of warring regions pause against them, and the inexplicably angry, and powerful, creatures under their control.

The future seemed bleak indeed, for after the Successor was murdered, by way of disintegration via Hyper Beam, it became common practice amongst these 'dark psychics' to murder their teacher, and take in their ghostly essence by way of a ritual that, they believed, preserved the knowledge of the person being consumed. Naturally, this claim fell apart under even the simplest logic test, but any with the balls to challenge such a psychic's 'divine authority' tended to die for it.

* * *

All was not lost though, for a future of death and blood had been prepared for as well. The Psychic Sages, spread across the world at generally one to a continental plate, invited those in the League they deemed worthy of education in the proper ways of using psychic energy. These humans trained for only a few years, but returned to their fellows with powers and martial arts knowledge that was far more structured than anything their dark counterparts could bring against them, and slowly, the children who manifested similar abilities came to be gathered by the Sage's pupils, for proper training and education. Over time, they would form an order of like-minded hero types to combat the darkness.

Though nobody is sure as to how long the Dark Times lasted, the most accurate guesses put the start roughly ten thousand years, before the modern era. It took seven millennia, but eventually, governments formed out of the chaos of cult beliefs and psychic abuse. The Aura Guardians, those who trained with the Sages, or trained under their pupils in hidden 'temples', hunted down every dark psychic that wished to continue the senseless slaughter and bloodshed, and in doing so usually lost many of their own number.

The fighting continued, mainly in the west, where the Dragon Empire had essentially split apart, thanks to the sons of the Last Emperor, and Rio had warred with Atlantica, before having their Guardian split in three as well, despite their victory.

* * *

The One Dragon was eventually torn apart, and the ideological conflict became generational, until what was left of the Empire finally collapsed. That event seemed to have a domino effect, as similar disastrous occurrences happened almost simultaneously across the globe, and what progress had been made in stopping the Dark Times seemed ready to come completely undone. The newly renamed Pokémon League used whoever they had at their disposal to try to mitigate these disasters, and slowly, the desire for peace returned again.

Three hundred years before the modern era, the newly named region of Unova, the only place with people who still followed the outdated imperial structure of governing, and the seat of the current warring brother's power, was engulfed in a massive fire, until finally, two of the three parts of the split dragon returned to spherical form, their power utterly, and uselessly, spent.

Kalos and Galar ended their latest three-century long war, and the King of Kalos simply disappeared one day, leaving the rule of his region to whoever had the strongest abilities in pitched battle. Three of his strongest partners, Cobalion, Terrakion, and Virizion left Kalos, and searched for the hidden, but reportedly honorable kingdom called Albion, north of Galar.

The three pledged themselves to the local king, a young Gallade with a dream and a small kingdom, and stayed there with him, serving loyally until they were tossed out by way of deceit and treachery, and took refuge in Unova. Thoroughly done with humans by then, the three endeavored to protect Pokémon throughout the many wooded areas on the north east of the continent, and once more became regarded as heroes.

* * *

It took several decades, but eventually the wars ended completely, and humanity focused on trying to recover all the advanced knowledge they had once possessed. This was when the Pokémon League came onto the world stage with an invention that changed the art of battling into the more modernized training most are familiar with in the present.

With a bit of rediscovered dimensional engineering, and a bit of knowledge from the Old Net, the League created the first iteration of the 'pocket ball', which they planned to sell en mass, as cheap as possible, to help their organization grow once more. Though many disliked the growing return to using currency for trade, the Pokémon League was one of the first organizations to take advantage of it, and in the space of weeks, countries the world over had switched to the far more manageable currency.

The ability to create the crystalline technology once used to control or otherwise tame the magical creatures who had, over the eons, come to populate every corner of the world with sheer numbers, had long been lost to fire, and the practice of habitually burning of an enemy's stockpile of knowledge. It was a tactic straight from the twisted mind of the Successor, and it had set humanity's technological prowess back by millennia, again. As the League began broadcasting battles between the ridiculously strong Trainers they found in the regions they had bases in, the Pokémon League's popularity grew. A call to honest battle that didn't end in death and heartbreak appealed to the people, as it had before.

* * *

With the Dark Times ended, humanity had grown collectively sick of people with powerful partners claiming connections to the divine, that apparently gave them the right to rule and conquer as they saw fit. Cults were, slowly, dismantled the world over, though there were plenty that were ignored due to their benign nature, and generally harmless practices.

Those who urged their people to fire and war were systematically hunted in some areas, and exiled in others. The Successor's Shadow was persistent though, and in the ever-modernizing world that retreated from the glorious chaos of war, eventually, only one large, but fanatical cult remained.

They called themselves Arceans, and they had coagulated from the last remnants of other cults being entirely deconstructed across the supercontinent, under a man who his followers called a Prophet. He was, by all accounts, human, and mortal, but his people believed his charismatic words all the same.

He detested what the cults on the supercontinent had become, and in a unique twist that actually saved them from being imprisoned and effectively disbanded, they detested those with psychic powers, and claimed that any with such abilities, human or Pokémon, must be corrupt and without morality, at their very core. Never mind what they did or did not do, 'true Arceans' treated psychics like abominations, that any good, moral person would eradicate, if given the chance.

Given what psychics had largely caused, it was not an unpopular opinion in the forming melting pot that would become Eous. Their Emperor had ordered them to live, but to live elsewhere, for peace was the foundation of what he was building, and a violent 'convert or else' philosophy simply would not work in such a place.

* * *

The key to this mortal Prophet's growing success in the largely leaderless Fornia region, in which the cult owned several small properties, was the PokéMeter he had claimed to have discovered when he had dared to climb the Master Plateau, and beat the Trainers he'd found there. In reality, he had been given the device from a strange woman with an unnerving smile, but strange women emerging from shadows and distributing magical energy readers was not a fit mythology for the cult he wished to create.

He had tried fiddling with the device after failing to make it work, only to find that after his 'modifications' to a machine from the mind of Creation, it no longer functioned properly at all. Thus, it became a Holy (if useless) Relic, and was prominently placed in their main church that took up the majority of the docks in the town of Port: Land. Compared to what they had owned in what was by then Eous, it was pitiful. But those who followed this mortal Prophet were loyal, and would remain so in the years to come.

Being somewhat creative, the Prophet had researched as many legends about the Alpha Pokémon as he could, and then formed them into a cohesive mythological canon that, surprisingly, wasn't too far off from reality. It was this he used as the backbone for the tenets of what he wished his cult to believe.

* * *

He mainly stated that the true form of the Alpha was gold and black, and that his realm was a golden paradise of eternal light, sculpted columns, and ever-present clouds. Upon death, his cult believed, they would ascend to this Holy Dimension and be rewarded for their years of hard toil and devout service, which was primarily fulfilling the Prophet's every whim.

They claimed that Giratina was evil incarnate, and had been imprisoned for its audacity to challenge the Alpha Pokémon's for supremacy. Moreover, he taught that any psychic type, no matter how friendly they seemed, was a minion of the Renegade Pokémon, hiding behind a guise that was meant to trick humans into believing that laying with such a Pokémon would give them psychic abilities of their own, and access to unimaginable power. Those with psychic power were considered to have willingly let 'Giratina's evil' into their hearts, and whether they knew it or not, their actions ultimately served evil.

The Arceans even had a chart by which they ranked Legendary or mythical Pokémon by order of power, which once more, was not too far off from being true. The Prophet told his people that, if they were going to Save the world and clear it of the unworthy for Arceus' eventual return, they needed to have strong Trainers.

* * *

They took a page from the Pokémon League then, with almost no shame, and with their penchant for buying large, empty buildings, they began turning them into 'Gyms', and even fabricated, by hand in those early days, genuine 'Arcean League' badges, which they claimed gave Trainers special power over the Pokémon under their control, namely making them stronger as they gathered more.

After almost thirty years of successful 'league growth' which was primarily supported by the full-time employed members of the cult, and after eventually making a sinful amount of currency from the ultimately pointless League that had no credibility or standing in the actual Pokémon League, the Arcean's Prophet found himself in a battle of law. The Pokémon League claimed he had deliberately copied their own organization, almost rule for rule, and had flagrantly used the Pokémon League's good name to convince the growing number of Trainers in the world to head west, and challenge their 'divine Trainers'.

Ultimately, two things happened. The Arceans lost, and they lost hard. With their currency went most of their new followers, and the old ones, along with the Prophet himself, had begun to spiral towards the end of their mortal coil. It was as the Prophet was strolling along a stretch of beach outside of Mewsia, another port city they had slowly bought up building by building, that he discovered what he at first thought was a corpse.

* * *

Upon closer inspection, he saw the body was male, but he was certainly pale enough to be a corpse, with skin that was almost gray, pure white hair, and upon opening his unconscious eyes, the Prophet had scrambled away as he saw pale light blue energy radiating from eyes that originated in nightmare. The yelp of the aging Prophet had been enough to make the man stir, and as he rose, the Prophet did a double take.

This was no strange human hybrid, but a normal human after all. He was handsome, and with a bit of cleaning up, he could be a fine example of an Arcean, or at least, what the tanned and gray-blonde old man thought an Arcean should be. He wasn't blonde, but then, hair color was not all-important. He had features that, in some regions, would be considered noble, and that was good enough for the old man.

The man claimed to have amnesia, and so the Prophet took to calling him Caleb, as he helped the man onto his nearest ship. With their land enterprises failing and the Pokémon League draining the money they'd invested in their properties one by one, the Arceans had pulled as much of their cash out of the local markets as they could, and then proceeded to buy almost twenty luxury cruise liners with the absurd amount of currency.

* * *

They had outfitted the small fleet in Mewsia, where ship weaponry was given freely, as pirates were a common nuisance that any sensible port town helped fight against. The Arceans had determined that such weapons could be just as easily turned on anyone they didn't want coming near their ships, and since all empires ended at the ocean, save for one, they would be free of any irritating laws, or debt collectors.

With the cult's last attempt at successful recruiting ending with only Caleb as a willing convert, they once more set sail on the sea, using the Sharpedo they had caught up north and tamed to pull them. The only way they had been able to afford so many large ships was by having their engines removed, and given the level of tech in Fornia and the surrounding regions, the engines would definitely find another purpose, and had also been worth quite a bit.

Each cruiser had a mobile Sharpedo pen that both served as a threat to cult members who had earned punishment, and an engine. As one of the fastest water types, and with the efficacy of human controlled breeding methods, each ship soon had almost forty razor toothed mouths acting as their fuel. They could even 'refuel' while at sea, for the pens hid the hungry eyes of the Sharpedo from any other species that dared to swim near their ships, and in range of their jaws.

* * *

 **Three Hundred Years Before Present – Oceana Pacifica, Coast of Kipnuk Region**

* * *

Caleb looked over the dying form of the man who had, for the last three decades, acted as a sort of father figure to him. He had regained his memories shortly after joining the Arceans at sea, and knew he'd never had such a figure before. His better half had often urged him to end the man's life prematurely, but he knew all too well how easily death could be traced. Instead, he waited patiently for the absurdly old Prophet to finally die.

At last, that time seemed nigh. The old fool had been unconscious for several hours, and his breathing had slowed. Caleb waited patiently, and as he did, he found his eyes drawn to the evidently useless machine, labeled a PokéMeter by the cult. Every time he looked at it, he was convinced. This device had a touch of the divine in it, but even he had been unable to make it work. He'd studied it enough to, more or less, replicate the readings it was apparently supposed to take, but with no reference for what was being measured, the Arceans had been left to guess.

* * *

Do you wish to learn how to turn it on?

The voice echoed from seemingly nowhere, but Caleb was long since used to such things. He smirked, and spoke in a whisper. "Yes."

Shadows from around the room clung to the device, and it sparked in protest. It also burned away the dark energy that touched it, but the Shadow persisted anyway, fixing what had been broken. It would never be as it once was, but now at least, it would function.

It is done...use it, mass produce it, and with it, you will be able to learn a person's deepest secrets. That, will be what binds them to your group, more solidly than any loyalty.

Caleb eyed the machine. "And what price must I pay for your aid in fixing this?" There was a dark, but unmistakably feminine chuckle, and nothing else.

Irritated, Caleb looked back to his mentor, only to find the man had passed on while he'd been otherwise distracted. He nodded, stood, and then promptly left.

* * *

"Has anyone heard anything?"

"Shh. Don't let Caleb hear you…"

"But he's our-"

The whispered conversation between the two navy blue clad Arcean Acolytes stopped abruptly as they slowly looked up and behind them, finding the unsettling grin of the man who had, over the past three decades, befriended their Prophet, claimed to have extended his life, and now upon the eve of his death, promised to 'take the reigns' of his organization.

"Spread the word. The Prophet is dead. I am your Prophet now." Two men in very nice, and very black suits flanked the Arcean's new Leader. "We have the documentation to prove it, for those who are uncertain about our future. He was adamant about finishing all of that, before Arceus called him home." He gave the two a familiar look, one that had, in the past, presaged a beating.

* * *

Caleb had made his temper one of the worst kept secrets of the cult early on during their thirty year long sea-bound voyage. Since the Prophet was busy being bedridden for most of the voyage, he had taken over managing most of the crew's duties, namely how much food was produced, and who was growing it on board the massive ships. Being at sea, it didn't take more than a few weeks for food to become the new currency.

Despite being forced onto the sea after their legal defeat, the Arceans had not given up. Caleb had formed some of the smarter, more devious thinkers into a group dedicated to studying the laws of whatever land they intended to eventually land in, which was all of them, so the spread of Arceus' Truth could begin again. They had learned well at the brutal edge of the League's own representatives, who had coldly and logically deconstructed not only the gaping flaws in their mythology, but how said mythology had been used to indoctrinate Trainers who had participated in their 'Holy League' with good intentions, into their organization.

They hadn't lacked for witnesses, who claimed the upper management of the cult was, in a word, abusive, and the governments of the western part of the continent had uniformly ruled that they would be expelled. The west was a very large place however, and there was one region that was more isolated, and vulnerable than the others.

* * *

The two uniformed acolytes moved to do as they were bid by their new Prophet with murmurs of 'Pareo Prophetia' and averted gazes. Within the hour, before the old man's body had cooled, Caleb had ordered the fleet of ships towards the Kipnuk region, and their largest port, Anchorhead.

After spending a few uneasy, but restful days aboard the eighteen cruise ships, each of which uncomfortably housed almost twenty thousand people, new recruits came to their flagship, the Mardevorar, claiming to have been sent from the town by a man called Pravus. Recognizing one of Caleb's favored aliases, those he'd entrusted with conversion began the process.

After spending so long at sea, and being led by Caleb with unsettling accuracy to numerous plane crashes, the Arceans had, after many years of feeding the unworthy to their engines, managed to reach almost full capacity on their ships. Over those years, the Arceans had adjusted their recruitment methods to fit plane crash survivors, shipwrecked sailors, and even a few 'redeemed' pirates.

The people in charge of convincing new members to convert soon found that they had to adjust again, for the first three potential converts walked off the ship after being bombarded with tales of the 'evils of Pokémon like Gardevoir'. Conversion sessions made use of the devices that Caleb had claimed to model after the PokéMeter, and since it was a Holy Relic, only the worthy among them had been allowed to be trained for their proper usage.

* * *

New recruits kept arriving, and eventually, Caleb came behind them. Evidently, he'd adopted 'Pravus' as his surname at the town's legal center, but that hardly mattered, for anyone with sense referred to him as their Prophet.

Once he'd returned to the flagship, he spent several hours first chewing out his conversion experts for losing three already, and then training them on the new iteration of the PokéMeter. He claimed that these new machines were far superior to the old. THey could read a person's biorhythm to the smallest change and detail. Combined with the psychological conditioning tactics that Pravus had prepared for this stage of his designs, the machines would become quite adept at helping the reader hone in on a person's secrets, or 'crimes' as the Arceans called them, and convince the person holding the meter's cans to confess to them. With this information they could, if necessary, blackmail the person in question into doing whatever the Church wished of them.

It didn't take long for the Kipnuk region to welcome the cult officially, and within an hour of that, the once sea-bound Arcean Church purchased land, and an empty building, for the first time in decades.

* * *

Those who were wary of the new cult were few in number, and over the next few months, the cult's ships docked all along the region's coastline, effectively limiting all trade to moving through Anchorhead. The new Prophet didn't take long to start expanding, for while Kipnuk was a sparse region, it was home to one of the largest and less ice-bound ports in the north.

Instead of land, he focused the rapidly regrowing Church's funds towards material trade with the Fire Navy ships that sailed east from Koria, looking to trade. Typically, they wanted Pokéballs, and the Church provided those as best they could.

Within the space of a year, the Church had not only bought out most of the habitable land of Kipnuk, and was providing living quarters to the entirety of the region's residents. The few who wanted no part of the Church, their strange hatred of psychics, and their fanatical devotion to Pravus, did not have much of a choice. Each day, Arceans would visit the homes of the unconverted, who lived in their buildings, and the assigned converters would attempt to get them to join. Eventually, the holdouts fell in line, or mysteriously disappeared on 'hunting trips' into the barren tundra to the north.

With Kipnuk under his thumb, Pravus turned his eyes south, on the jewel of the west. Being what he was, and after being drained by his escape from his previous home, he had long since taken to subtly draining those under him of life energy, but it was never enough, and more than once, he'd left a husk that had to be fed to the Sharpedo. It was becoming unsustainable, as he could not place everyone under his hypnotic dreams while he partook of their essence. He needed a more permanent fix, and to that end, his better half suggested doing as his people had done before.

* * *

That meant finding a large city, and draining it of life. Instead of making a Nexus of darkness though, this time, the energy would be his and his alone. In those days, Vega City was the capital of the western regions, who were at that point enjoying the prosperity that came from an abundance of food. They had once supplied an empire, and now without one demanding taxes, the farmers had grown rich, and the rich demanded entertainment. Vega City provided that.

The trick would be getting those who opposed him and his cult all in one place, at one time, and making sure nobody lived to tell the tale of what happened. Once he had a plan, he began setting it in motion. The people of Kipnuk were 're-assigned' throughout what would become Fornia, and no less than a hundred devout Arceans went to each region. Within another year, they had functional church buildings in each of said regions.

Pravus knew that if they were to recover, they would need to erase the massive debt his predecessor, and the Pokémon League, had attached to his people. As they started to grow, it didn't take long for the League to renew their efforts to drain the cult once more of its finances, but the Arceans were ready.

* * *

They bogged down the legal proceedings with legal shenanigans, and in the meantime, Pravus assigned various people to visit the homes of the lawyers the League had retained, and from the sidewalks outside of them, protested the 'deplorable actions' of those within. Loudly. Their claims ranged from outright thievery, to pedophilia, and they told everyone, passerby, local police, even neighbors, that there was scum in their midst.

It didn't take long for the lawyers in question to recuse themselves, but those who didn't pressed on as the wheels of law dragged slowly. Months passed, but eventually, after literally buying out their neighbors homes and filling them with yet more Arceans, the lawyers in question dropped the issue, and the courts forgave the remaining debt, which was in the billions.

The Arceans saw it as a great victory, and with the financial leech gone, they spread like a cancer. The focus then became conversion, and with their 'divine technology' the cult was able to perfect the methods by which they indoctrinated the many varied mindsets that the west played home to. One by one though, cities became 'cleared' as the Church bought their land, their homes, and soon, controlled what jobs were available as well.

* * *

No branch of government was immune to the enticing promises of immortality in exchange for devotion, and hard work, and eventually, Pravus had enough sway and political clout to gather everyone his Church had singled out as a potential threat in Vega.

It had taken fifteen decades, and as the Arceans celebrated their one-hundred and fiftieth year of straight growth and prosperity, they held a massive celebration in Vega. Being the capital, they had only been able to buy up so much of it, and compared to other cities, their church there was nothing special. It was barely furnished, and only served as temporary living quarters to those Pravus assigned there.

Pravus himself had lived much longer than any normal human, and yet retained his looks, according to his followers. As his hair grayed and his body began decaying, he had his media specialists work to hide the deformities and signs of age. He rarely appeared in public, and when he did, he used other means to continue to appear young.

* * *

When the celebration began in earnest, those gathered had no reason to suspect anything would be different from the last two celebrations the Arceans had put on for their fiftieth, and one hundredth celebrations. While the most common gripe about them was the daily six o'clock visits from preachers, Pravus had been very effective in making sure their public image remained untarnished.

There were voices of dissent of course, those who had left the Church after realizing what it was, and what it would potentially become. They too had been invited to Vega though, and none thought it strange. The Arceans had always very publicly stated their dream of a unified west, that could survive and thrive without any eastern interference.

The celebration continued well into the night, and as was typical with Vega, things turned as debaucherous as expected. The Arceans were quietly ordered to leave the city post-haste, and when they had, Pravus sent in his Task Force goons to deliver the few individuals who had refused to join the festivities.

* * *

Those he wished in the city for the event had been paired with 'escorts' of whatever gender the target preferred, and was likely to go for. The entire plan was quite masterful, and as the clock struck midnight, Pravus began his ritual. For the first time in over a century, he floated above the city using his better half's abilities, and soon after, a sphere of darkness covered Vega.

Nobody seemed to notice, and those who did soon found themselves trapped under the barrier. None who lived through that event were there to witness exactly what happened under the dome, but the result was a massive dark purple colored explosion, and a beam of energy that shot into the sky, but did not pierce the clouds. It was seen for miles by others, but none were close enough to understand what kept the beam from continuing on to the cloud-covered night sky.

Had they been close enough, they might have a seen a solitary figure in the midst of the light, grinning as the lives of well over a billion people, most in the midst of vigorous activities, were snuffed out all at once, and converted into fuel for his body. Being a product of similar sorcery, it adapted well to the energy, and Pravus descended to the ruined streets amidst the fire that had started soon after those maintaining the city had been ended. It would serve to scour the city of corpses and evidence, and the 'Prophet' cackled amidst the flames, enjoying his victory and his newly revitalized body.

* * *

He returned the next day to address the western regions as a whole, and lamented the loss of 'many great Arceans', despite the fact that none had been caught in the Vega Event, as it was being called. The story was pushed forward by Arceans in charge of media across the many regions. Someone, it was never determined who, had awakened the Dark Phoenix, Ignavis.

Being, in addition to a most holy man, a strong Trainer, Caleb Pravus claimed that he'd done battle with the beast personally, but despite his best efforts, the city had still burned. Tears were publicly shed as he lamented his inability to save so many people, but those who yet lived bought every word.

He announced then that, to prevent future unfortunate events, the Arcean Church would keep Ignavis' egg, which he had retained and displayed as proof of his victory, and story. Moreover, he would select the strongest Trainers from among the Church's ranks, and give them a new rank, one directly under his own, and separate from the Church itself. Those chosen would become his Hands, for even Arceus had required thousands to create everything, and with them, he promised to not only keep the west safe from 'rampaging Legendary Pokémon', but to unite the west as well.

With his body and some measure of power restored, Pravus began turning the west into a powerhouse where economics were concerned. The cities he controlled focused on production, and soon became home to many factories, and other such places. Business boomed, and with success came new converts.

* * *

More years passed, and eventually, the revitalized Prophet took to addressing his people on an almost daily basis via his media networks which were, by then, influencing every region west of the Stoney Mountains with great success. Another ten years passed, but in the vacuum of power that the Vega Event had left, Pravus had moved in and ruthlessly suppressed any opposition.

He took political office in the new capital of Sacreus. It had, before the Church had gotten involved with it, been a crater-city, a remnant of an ancient old Earth city that had evidently been scoured from the face of the planet by way of meteor. Humans had come to populate the crater in the years following, and soon, a city formed.

No record remains today of what it was once called, for when the Arceans moved in and named it their capital, the center of Arcean faith in the west, the people had renamed it to Sacreus without much of a fuss. They had then fortified the city to a degree no other place in the west had. The crater provided a natural defense, and walls soon went up around that.

* * *

In the years to come the sprawl would spread beyond those walls, and yet more would be added as the Church turned those building into more that stood tall enough to scrape the sky. From this fortified bastion of Arcean faith, Pravus and his Hands began putting their grand plans into motion. None but the Prophet knew their full extent, but there were several among their number who, like him, had embraced the power Shadow energy offered to humans.

His Hands were selected from children that were deemed by the Church to have psychic abilities, and by then, most people in the west had come to distrust, or at least be wary of those with such power thanks in no small part to the Arceans and their endless stream of largely made-up propaganda.

Once he had twenty or so Hands ready for 'black assignments' as he called them, he focused on building up the west's scientific facilities. By that point, all cities but Colville had pledged themselves both to Arceus and his Prophet, and the newly named Fornia region came into being, not all that long after Unova did in the east.

* * *

When it became obvious that faith did not a scientific mind make, the Prophet looked elsewhere for Professors or other scientists who might lack the moral impediments that seemed absurdly common among those employed by the Pokémon League, and kept them from being viable converts. The Pokémon League typically liked to, as a rule, ignore the Arceans. Nobody wanted to deal with their violent tactics, though even then they should have known, conflict with leaders like Pravus is inevitable. Eventually, the Prophet found exactly what he was looking for.

With the Cipher organization dismantled in Orre for a final time, Pravus offered shelter and sanctuary to the two people Interpol most wanted to detain: Doctor Ein, and Ardos. Ardos became a Hand, taking to the cult eagerly, as most who wished to lay their problems on a higher power did. Eventually, Pravus himself had him believing he'd been 'redeemed' by Arceus for his past deeds, and now endeavored to use Shadow energy in the name of the Alpha.

Rational minds that pointed out the logical conflict that kind of ideology brought tended to end up in the region's many quickly growing 'Rehabilitation Centers' that were in reality, little more than mining camps. The regions bordering the Stoney Mountain range had always dug for fossils, though the rate at which they found them increased once the Church got involved. Any who worried of the potential destruction of Pokémon habitats, like Fornia's chosen Professor, the Dragon Type expert, Dracaena, were subtly, and sometimes not so subtly, encouraged to 'stay quiet' using the same scare-tactics that had stopped the League's lawyers, and given them a 'great victory'.

* * *

The League had sent her to Fornia because their last Professor to give out Pokémon in the western regions had died in Vega. The League only received a response from the Church about his whereabouts five decades after the fact, and any attempts to enter the region and look for him had been swiftly 'deterred' by soldiers with black body armor, projectile weapons, and strong Pokémon, for when the first two weren't enough.

The League had threatened to make a legal fuss, and the response from Pravus had been quick. He offered to allow another Professor, with enough land for a lab to rival the Oak Ranch, to reside in Fornia's southern regions. They had ultimately sent Dracaena, and agreed, confident that she would find something on the disturbing rumors the few who managed to escape the Church's regime were spewing.

Dracaena received the land promised, but what nobody from the Church had mentioned, was the massive barbed fence marking the perimeter of the admittedly massive swathe of land. New Trainers, she had been told, would be sent her way down the very obvious, very straight pathway to her Lab.

* * *

She had read enough on the Arcean Church to know their tactics, and had no delusions about whether the path and the lab were being watched. She had tossed her spartan living quarters thoroughly, and had found no bugs. It was the first evidence of respect for individual privacy she'd seen from the Church, but it was also the last.

Eventually, after demanding that she had a right to be able to check up on new Trainers, and how their Pokémon were doing, the Church allowed her to maintain contact for a year, after sending the youngsters on their way. She never heard, not once, from anyone after their first year, and was blocked from searching for the Trainers in question easily. The Church had her PokéNet connection blocking certain sites, as they did with everyone's connections in the Fornia region.

There were other ways to learn, though. Sneaking in a net-capable device from Japan wasn't exactly difficult, but they had a bad habit of 'disappearing' from her quarters, and eventually, she found bugs in there, too. She made no fuss about smashing them, and had torn up the bill the Church had sent her when it claimed she had 'destroyed their property'.

* * *

Despite the Professor's best efforts with the children, the Church was quite good at keeping anything but praise for them and the Prophet from their media streams. The most common complaint from the relatively new converted families of the west was how much currency their cult demanded from them on a monthly basis.

Pravus answered these concerns by instituting a series of cringeworthy videos, very obviously made in Fornia, using 'new' actors to demonstrate and announce in an almost salesman like tone all the wonderful things their holy institution was doing with their money. Since they provided everything one might need for a hard-working life, the complaints eventually faded, thanks in no small part to the mental conditioning from the PokéMeters that was a part of their sixteen-hour shifts.

Convincing the people to work wasn't exactly hard, as they were rather industrious, and the pride in their work came from being shown, on a daily basis and often while working, what their seemingly meaningless toil was doing for the world as a whole, and how it was all helping towards the goal of preparing the Earth for Arceus' return.

* * *

The region's scientific prowess began to explode once the Hex Nut line of Pokémon was discovered, and while many on the continent waited eagerly for the multitudes of helpful steel types to come their way, none ever did. Anyone who claimed to have one soon had it mysteriously stolen, and eventually, they would change their story and claim they'd released it of their own accord, which halted any investigating the League did.

Throughout Fornia, the Prophet set up subtle camps, in which the Meltan and Melmetal were imprisoned by way of constant melting. Their metal was drawn slow enough to keep the tortured beings alive, but they still gained numerous amounts of the material, which Doctor Ein put to use for the war he had been told was coming. Both he and Ardos had received similar information, but the former Cipher leader was sent to Sinnoh, and told to start expanding the Church's influence in Japan.

As the years slowly ticked by, the Arcean's Prophet began, subtly, arranging marriages and encouraging those with...certain characteristics, to breed actively. His predecessor had been more than a bit consumed by the differences in the 'races' of humanity, and while he himself did not fit those standards perfectly, he knew a Church full of blonde heads and pale skins would satisfy the old man's dying wishes.

* * *

Slowly, the populace of Fornia began to split, into those who could battle, and those who were better suited to menial labor. Pravus gathered the former in a 'paradise' that he called the Oasis of Glory. Located in Fornia's south, not at all far from Professor Dracaena's lab, he personally trained the men and women who would become the bulk of his future military force.

It had eventually become clear, after Ghetsis' multiple failures in Unova, that war would be inevitable, if they ever wanted to convert the east. With the regional focus shifted to a war none but a few in the upper echelon knew was coming, keeping their production efforts secret was more important than ever.

One of the Task Force's earliest responsibilities had been preventing anyone from leaving the region, and as they officially shut the borders, any who attempted to escape were 'redirected' by the armed men with Shadow infused Pokémon to the nearest mining camp. The Church claimed fossils at an impressive rate, and many went on to become powerful and Shadow infused under the Church's many Trainers. Nobody but Doctor Ein knew what the Prophet was searching for, and he was every bit as eager to bring it back to life.

* * *

For all his planning, things went sideways when, in an attempt to betray the Prophet, Ghetsis combined Reshiram with the captured Kyurem. He never got the chance to enact his betrayal, and indeed, came to rely upon the Church even more in the days that followed.

After losing many in the newly Arcean town of Lacunosa, the Church tried bringing the Trainer they deemed responsible up on legal charges. He never personally showed up, but his family's lawyers did, and as the combined legal team of Redwood and Gladstone representatives pointed out, with video evidence from passing Trainers, that the catching practices in the Giant Chasm were what set Kyurem off in the first place, it was the Church that had brought death upon their Trainers, not Alex Redwood, who had been challenging the League during the incident, and was ruled to not be involved.

When they suggested that the Unovan government look into the Church's involvement with Ghetsis, their lawyers promptly dropped all charges, and left. Several weeks later, they captured the One Dragon, with another absurd legal claim, though that one they never actually battled in open court. The next time the Church officially contacted Unova, was to declare a Holy War, and their intention to show Unovans the 'Light of Arceus'. Whether they wanted it or not.


End file.
